


Heir to the Emerald Throne

by beingaverageisnormal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Percy Jackson, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Percy, Family Issues, Gen, Light Angst, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson Friendship, Percy doesn't like him, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Slytherin Percy Jackson, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingaverageisnormal/pseuds/beingaverageisnormal
Summary: Perseus Jackson is Voldemort's grandson.Albus Dumbledore is worried.He hopes that by bringing the boy to Hogwarts they would be able to influence him against his grandfather, perhaps even use him to fight against Voldemort.But Percy is dealing with his own demons, he doesn’t have time for magic to get thrown in the mix.And he is tired of being a pawn in another's game.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 724
Kudos: 1888
Collections: BooksToMonitor, perseusjackson





	1. Prologue

“A grandson? Really? How did we not know about this until now,” Sirius demanded angrily.

Albus Dumbledore was staring at the book with the same sense of disbelief. Voldemort having a child was shocking in itself, but she was a squib, and squibs were useless against magic. But the squib had a child, a magical boy, and the feather that wrote down every magical child born in the Wizarding World trembled as it wrote in neat cursive one name:

_Perseus Jackson ---Riddle descendant_

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore said gravely, “but _someone_ very powerful went through great lengths to keep him a secret. This book was made with very ancient magic.”

“We need to devise a new course of action. This boy could tip the scales in the war,” Moody thundered.

“He’s a _child_ ,” Mcgonagall admonished, “no matter what his heritage is, we are not using a _boy_ in the war.”

“But will Voldemort see it the same way Minerva?” Dumbledore asked softly, “even now I regret involving Harry in this fight, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Voldemort would not hesitate to use his own grandson, regardless of his age, against us.”

“If this information is being revealed to us _now_ ,” Moody said, “then there is without a doubt a birth certificate appearing in the Ministry of Magic, right where Voldemort’s lackeys can find it.”

Sirius looked to Dumbledore, “What do we do?”

“You can’t be _serious_ Albus,” Mcgonagall pleaded, “For all we know he’s never even heard of magic.”

“We will bring him to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore decided, “mentor him, shape him _here_ , so that if he ever met his grandfather, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn away.”

When Mcgonagall looked away, Dumbledore simply reached out to her, “Please Minerva, what we are doing is the best course of action for everyone involved.”

“You are turning the boy into a weapon,” Mcgonagall said sharply, “wouldn’t be the first time I suppose. I want no part in this.”

With that, the Gryffindor Head swept out of the office, loudly slamming the door shut behind her.

Dumbledore sighed, turning to the rest of the Order gathered in his office, “I need one person to accompany me to America,” he said, “according to the book, Perseus lives in New York, and the sooner we bring him to Hogwarts, the better.”

“I’ll go,” Sirius volunteered, “I need to meet the person my godson is going to be spending the school year with.”

“Excellent, we’ll leave tomorrow. Alastor, do you and your team have the proper plan on extracting Harry from his muggle relatives?”

“Yes, my team is more than capable of this task,” Moody said shortly.

“Wonderful. Meeting adjourned,” Dumbledore said, “Severus, could you please stay a moment?”

“ _Snivellus is in trouble_ ,” Sirius sang under his breath, disappearing into the fireplace, followed shortly by Mad Eye-Moody.

“You needed me for something?” Snape drawled.

“I need you to report back to Voldemort,” Dumbledore said, linking his hands together, “and tell him about his grandson.”

Snape blinked, startled, but Dumbledore continued, “Report back to me his reaction,” he instructed, “this information is vital for the next step.”

The Potions Master nodded curtly and left the office, his black robes billowing dramatically behind him.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to the newest reform the Ministry was pushing, thoughts swirling his mind.

* * *

“Severus, my my, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Voldemort mocked, “having fun in your little Order?”

“They don’t suspect anything my lord,” Snape replied, his head bowed, “but, there is something important we discovered last meeting.”

“I wonder if your definition of important differs from mine,” Voldemort said lazily, Nagini curled around his shoulders, “the last time you brought me “ _important news_ ” I became a ghost for 13 years.”

_And Lily died_ , Snape thought bitterly, but nonetheless kept going, “Dumbledore has discovered your child in America. She has a son, and he possesses magic.”

Someone let out a little gasp. Murmurs swept through the table. It wasn’t public knowledge that Voldemort had a daughter, it was even less known that she was a squib.

The fact that she had a son, an heir, that could produce magic?

_Inconceivable_

“You _dare_ mention her,” Voldemort hissed, “in front of _me_?”

Snape shrunk back, prepared for the unending agony of the Cruciatus Curse, when instead, he heard Voldemort’s laughter, the sound of it causing his hair to stand on end.

“It’s all right Severus,” the monster said with a predatory grin, “in fact, this is good news! I assume Dumbledore’s already on his way to pick up _my_ grandson?”

Snape nodded, “They are leaving for America as we speak.”

“America? How interesting… my dear follower, _prove_ your loyalty to me, bring me my grandson. Fail… well,” Voldemort chuckled darkly, “Nagini will certainly eat well, isn’t that right my pet?”

Nagini flicked her tongue at Snape, tasting him.

The Potions Master shuddered internally.

“You have my word, my lord.”


	2. Chapter 1

Percy Jackson was used to strange things.

Gods? Monsters? Magicians? Yeah cool, that’s fine.

Didn’t mean he was sick and tired of them showing up all the time.

Yet this past week strange things kept happening to him, something he, nor Annabeth had an explanation for.

_ Ever since Tartarus, he’s changed. _

Of course, who wouldn’t after surviving literal  _ hell _ ? Both Nico and Annabeth confessed to feeling different after crawling out of the Pit. That place… who could be the same afterwards?

With his ever growing powers, he needed a new level of control. Percy couldn’t afford to get angry, true unbridled anger, without  _ others _ suffering the consequences. Any extreme emotion triggered  _ something _ deep inside him, causing chaos and destruction every time it happened.

And every time he tried to repress it, his father’s voice would ring in his head.

_ The sea does not like to be restrained _ .

Percy was just so  _ tired _ . He didn’t want these new powers, he didn’t want to have to relive  _ every single moment _ in the Pit when he slept, he didn’t want to wake up with the ground trembling beneath him and everyone he loves and cares about looking at him with worry. He prayed to Hypnos, he sacrificed to Morpheus, he even asked Hades to remove dreams altogether, but still---

\---the gods let him down.

_ Again _

But this? Making objects float? Setting things on fire in his rare moments of anger? 

These new powers, no explanation.

One day, one particular bad day, they just started  _ happening _ .

Which is why he was entirely unsurprised to see two strangely dressed men standing outside his mom’s apartment door.

“Hello,” the older man,  _ how could someone’s beard grow that long _ , said pleasantly, “my name is Albus Dumbledore, and this is Sirius Black. We are looking for a boy named Perseus Jackson?”

Anyone who called him Perseus meant danger. Almost instantly, Percy felt himself begin to panic, but he consistently reassured himself that he is  _ fine _ . His mom was at a writing seminar today, Paul had school, Estelle was at a daycare because Percy couldn’t trust himself around his baby sister anymore,  _ he was fine _ .

“That would be me,” Percy replied warily, suspicion laced in his tone, “do you need something?”

“We were hoping to talk to you actually,” the man called Sirius said, “it’s about your grandfather.”

“Both my grandfathers are dead,” Percy said automatically, the warning bells going off even louder as his hand strayed to his pocket, clutching Riptide in a tight, white-knuckled grip.

“Not exactly,” Dumbledore said kindly, “may we come in? We have some serious matters to discuss.”

“Sure,” Percy said, opening the door for the two men, “why not, and call me Percy. Perseus makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

* * *

Sirius, he didn’t know how to feel about the boy.

First of all, calling him a  _ boy _ would be an understatement. For one thing, Percy stood taller than Sirius did, just above being eye-level with the wizard. Secondly, his lean and muscular build gave off an impression of power, and Sirius had no doubt that Percy knew how to fight. 

Third, it was from the way Percy acted that Sirius knew that this boy had to grow up too fast. His unusual sea-green eyes were dark and calculating, his mouth set in a neutral line betraying no emotion, and his entire aura  _ screaming _ danger.

_ However dangerous you think you are _ , his expression seemed to say,  _ I’m worse _ .

Percy did not react when they told him about magic. He did not react when they told him about his psychotic mass-murdering grandfather, yet his lips twitched into a smirk that reminded Sirius eerily of the Slytherins he used to terrorize back in the day, and he reminded himself that this was Voldemort’s grandson. 

“How old are you Percy?” Dumbledore asked.

“I’m 17,” Percy replied shortly.

_ He’s two years older than Harry. _

“I regret that we didn’t find out about you sooner Percy,” Dumbledore said mournfully, “someone very powerful was keeping you hidden from us, until now, and I’d like to rectify that mistake.”

Percy raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond.

“You see, I am the headmaster of a school in Great Britain called Hogwarts. There, we teach students from ages 11-17 how to hone and control their magic. I want you to come to school with us, if only for a year, so that you may have control over your magic. Has anything ever happened to you when you felt a particularly strong emotion?”

Percy’s expression became troubled, his eyes flicking to the side as if remembering something that happened, “Yes.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely, “In the Wizarding World, we call it ‘accidental magic’ and it is very common among our youth. Now Percy, will you accept our offer? Come to our school, learn to stop your accidental magic from ever happening again?”

Percy looked at Dumbledore for a moment, then stared right at Sirius, who felt like his soul was being pierced by that gaze, “I’ll need to talk to my mom first,” he said finally, “but for now, yes,” he looked down at his scarred and calloused hands, “I don’t want to hurt anyone I care about.”

Dumbledore and Sirius exchanged a meaningful glance, and the headmaster nodded, “We will send you a letter by owl to make arrangements,” he said, “we have a long journey ahead of us.”

The teen nodded, “Sure,” he said, getting up and walking to the door, “now, if that’s it?”

Both wizards quickly got the message and left, apparating with a loud  _ crack _ once they were a safe distance away. Once they were back in the American wizarding community, Sirius turned to his old headmaster, “You didn’t tell me he’s 17.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “I didn’t know until now,” he confessed honestly, “I never even considered he might be that old.”

Sirius glanced at the old wizard, “I feel like Voldemort already got his hands on him.”

“That’s what I was afraid of too, when we first met him,” Dumbledore said sadly, “I saw Tom all over again, but, against all reason, even more dangerous.”

“You felt it? Like all your instincts screaming at you to run?”

Dumbledore nodded, “But when I mentioned controlling his accidental magic… you saw it too Sirius. The boy cares about people, he wants to keep them safe. And the Tom I knew never cared about anyone but himself.”

“Is it worth it?” Sirius asked, “to only keep him for one year. Would that even be enough?”

“For now,” Dumbledore decided, “let us simply help him control his magic. Everything else, I assure you, will fall into place.”

* * *

“Sir,” Snape said curtly, “the Dark Lord wishes that I bring Perseus to him once he arrives. He wants to know the boy.”

“That is quite troublesome,” Dumbledore mused, “what have you decided to do?”

“The Dark Lord threatened my life if I don’t complete the task. Out of my self-preservation I am going to bring him the boy like he asked,” Snape relied with a small snarl.

“Now now don’t be like that Severus,” Dumbledore admonished, “have a little faith. Yes, you will bring Perseus to Voldemort. Give the boy a reason to hate his grandfather and his cause. When the time is right, you can escape using this portkey,” he handed him a small galleon, “and return back to Hogwarts, where we will be there to safely reassure the traumatized boy.”

Snape nodded, “Of course.”

* * *

Sally Jackson-Blofis took the news remarkably well, further cementing Percy’s belief that she was too good for this world, “I should have told you sooner,” she said quietly.

Percy stilled, “What do you mean?”

“When I was born, my mother prayed to Hecate and asked her to suppress my magic. She believed that if I didn’t have any magic, Voldemort,  _ my father _ , wouldn’t come for me,” Sally paused, observing his reaction, or lack of it, “when you were born, Hecate appeared and offered to do the same for you.”

Sally sighed, reaching out to her son, “I was selfish,” she whispered, “I was so afraid they would take you away from me just because of who your grandparent was, so I accepted. I didn’t want your life to become even more difficult because of  _ my _ side of the family,” she grasped his hands firmly, her expression filled with regret, “ I don’t know why your magic is acting up now, but I know the gods are involved.”

“I said I was done being their pawn mom,” he said, frowning slightly, “I wish you told me.”

“I know honey, and I’m sorry. Just, promise me you’ll be safe?”

Percy closed his eyes, he loved his mom more than anything, and he would always forgive her, “I promise.”

Sally Jackson-Blofis smiled warmly, relief shining in her eyes, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mother's Day!


	3. Chapter 2

Percy was first introduced to Diagon Alley, escorted by a man named Remus Lupin, a werewolf.

The demigod just smiled and held his pen a little tighter.

_ Nico still has the scars. _

Diagon Alley was bright and colorful, and it was the most chaotic place Percy had ever seen. Owls were constantly flying all over the place, delivering mail and packages tied to their little feet. Occasionally, one would get too close to Percy, nearly cutting into him with their razor-sharp talons, and he would be reminded that his girlfriend’s mom didn’t like him very much.

Of course,  _ getting _ to Britain was a hassle all on its own. Percy had stubbornly refused even the  _ prospect _ of getting on an airplane, to which both wizards looked at him strangely and asked what an “airplane” was. Suffice to say, Percy was a little wary to find out how wizards traveled internationally if they didn’t use airplanes.

Turns out Portkeys were a thing, and it caused a rush of excitement to flow through him. It felt exactly like shadow traveling, which he  _ loved _ , and when the three of them popped back into Britain, Percy had to refrain from laughing out of excitement.

Dumbledore had looked at him strangely and said, “Most people get a little nauseous using a portkey for the first time.”

For the first time in a while Percy grinned a little too crookedly and replied, “I’m not like most people.”

To which Sirius muttered, “Yeah we  _ know _ .”

In Diagon Alley, Percy and Remus visited almost every single shop to buy supplies for Hogwarts. Apparently, they needed textbooks all the way from first year, as he’ll be catching up on magic during the summer while he stayed at Hogwarts.

The demigod was a little concerned about money, but Remus assured him that Hogwarts can cover everything, although the quality might not be as good. 

In order to retrieve said money, the pair needed to visit Gringotts, which was the wizarding bank. The building stood out among the colorful shops with its white marble Grecian architecture that Percy knew Annabeth would’ve  _ loved _ .

Once he entered the building, the little goblin-looking creatures stopped and stared, whispering among each other in their own language. One rushed up to the two of them, bowing once he got close, “It is an honor Perseus,” the goblin said in a gruff voice, “to be in your presence. Please, how may Griphook serve you as an act of gratitude?”

“We just need to access the Hogwarts vault,” Remus replied kindly.

Griphook sneered at the werewolf, “There’s no need,” he said, “I will escort Perseus myself to his vault. It is an honor when a half-blood graces us with their presence, even more so with one as famous as he.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably, silently reminding himself that if the situation ever came up he could easily kill them. Besides, the goblins seemed almost  _ reverent _ when looking at him, and his instincts told him that he didn’t have to worry.

_ Much _ .

Remus was about to protest, but Percy cut him off, “It’s fine Remus,” he said with a reassuring smile, “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m not really supposed to let you out of my sight,” Remus replied hesitantly.

“It’s only for a few minutes,” Percy said, “besides didn’t you tell me Gringotts is the safest place in the Wizarding World?”

“I--yes, but--”

“--then there’s nothing to worry about,” Percy turned to the goblin who was watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, “Griphook, take me to my vault please.”

The goblin bowed and led him away from Remus and towards a little cart that led into the open maw of a large,  _ dark _ , looming cave.

Percy made his way to the opening warily as his heart began to beat faster, “Griphook,” he said with a deceptively calm lilt to his voice, “if you plan on betraying me, I will kill you.”

The goblin looked almost offended, “After what you have done for the world? Never, I could never.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Percy replied unapologetically, eyeing the cave with partially concealed terror.

Griphook stepped inside the cart, followed closely by the demigod, “Of course,” he said, “most understandable.”

Percy gripped the sides of the cart in a white-knuckled grip, trying to dispel the images of another empty, bottomless Pit.

_ You can never escape me Perseus Jackson _

_ Watch me you ass _ , he thought determinedly, wincing as the cart took off. The cavern was dark, barely illuminated by various torches, and at one point Percy swore he saw an actual  _ dragon _ .

Still, as they passed through a waterfall, the refreshing water lifted his spirits and he allowed himself to relax a little.

Finally when they reached their destination, the cart slowed to a stop. Griphook hopped out and started walking towards a massive vault made of marble. Percy tentatively approached the vault, realizing that it was just the two of them for miles.

“A drop of blood from a half-blood is necessary to unlock the vault,” Griphook instructed.

_ And with the blood of the demigods, we shall wake the Earth Mother _

Percy blinked, “Uh yeah, is there another way? I’m fine giving a strand of hair or something, just not blood.”

Griphook looked confused until he clarified, “Demigod blood has special properties,” Percy explained carefully, “it’s not…  _ wise _ to give it out randomly.”

The goblin nodded as if he understood, “Of course, my apologies.”

Percy knew that there was no way they could get the vault open, which was fine by him, his family was never the rich type anyways. And deep down, he knew it was irrational to be so paranoid about his blood, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Wordlessly, the vault opened, revealing mountains of gold, silver, and ancient artifacts.

Griphook looked awed, “Even now the gods watch over you,” he said, “truly an  _ honor _ .”

Skeptically, Percy walked into the vault, half-expecting it to lock him in, recognizing Greek  _ drachmas  _ and the Roman  _ denarii _ alike. He also saw these strange gold, silver, and bronze coins, which Griphook explained as the wizarding currency.

Still slightly cautious, Percy took the bag Griphook gave him,  _ bottomless _ , he had said, and began filling it with as many coins as he could grab. Miraculously, or  _ magically _ the bag remained as light as ever, making Percy truly appreciate magic for the first time since coming here.

Once they were done, the pair made their way back to the cart, silent all the way back up. 

He was met with a relieved looking Remus, and after Percy bade farewell to the awestruck goblins, the pair made their way out of the bank.

Remus had asked him what the heck was that all about, but he just deflected and feigned confusion  _ maybe it was something about my granddad? _

That had shut up Remus pretty quickly. 

The pair traveled to get Percy’s robes fitted, the long baggy sleeves seemed way too inconvenient, but these wizards seemed to want to commit to the  _ aesthetic _ so he was saddled with black robes, a white button up shirt, and those grey pants that he hated. Percy was  _ also _ told that he would receive a  _ tie _ and a sweater according to which house he was sorted into.

Because apparently wizarding Britain has never heard of jeans, or a t-shirt.

How awful.

Next they bought all the supplies Percy would need for school, including books,  _ quills _ , ink, parchment, an actual goddam  _ cauldron _ , etc. The poor demigod was ready to tear his eyes out once he saw the amount of books he would have to read in order to  _ control _ his magic.

Fortunately they were able to cover all the expenses thanks to his seemingly bottomless bag, which meant that they were able to get the finest  _ potion _ ingredients.

Joy

Percy had questioned how  _ necessary _ a “potions” class was for controlling his magic, but Remus had reassured him by saying that it was one of their core classes so  _ of course _ he had to take it.

One of the last shops they visited was a pet shop. Remus had explained that each Hogwarts student was allowed an owl, a cat, or a toad. Owls were useful for delivering messages and cats made great familiars. The werewolf had suspiciously left out the uses of a toad, but Percy chose not to comment on it.

Logically, the demigod knew that owls were probably the most obvious choice to make, especially with Iris Messaging and regular cell phones not working for demigods at the moment. If only Athena would allow him  _ one _ moment of sympathy and allow him the small mercy of getting her sacred animal as a pet.

She didn’t.

As soon as Percy stepped into the shop all the owls started screeching, attempting to lunge at him from within their cages.

Remus and Percy were met with a very frazzled employee who asked them to  _ leave the shop please sir you are stressing out our birds _ .

“They usually don’t act like this,” the employee confessed after escorting the pair out, “I don’t know what happened to make them go berserk like that.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to get a familiar Percy,” Remus said mournfully as they started walking from the shop.

Percy just shrugged, “It’s fine,” he said, “I have a dog back home and I think she would get jealous if I brought someone else home.”

_ Or would accidentally rip them apart in an attempt to play _

“Oh! I could ask Headmaster Dumbledore to allow you to bring her to school,” Remus said, probably in an attempt to build trust and solidarity, “I’m sure dogs aren’t the worst thing to bring as a pet.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Percy responded immediately as they made their way to Ollivanders, “she’s like…  _ really _ big.”

“Oh it’s no trouble at all! Hagrid has his own dog named Fang, and he’s as big as they come.”

Percy winced, “No like… um, do you know what a hellhound is?”

All the color drained from Remus’s face, “You have a hellhound?” he asked, his face white.

“No, but she’s as big as one,” he lied, “she likes to play with other animals and I’m worried about their, uh, safety.”

The werewolf breathed a sigh of relief, “Yes, yes of course. If you’re sure,” he opened the door to the wand shop and gestured Percy inside, “as long as you’re sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Sunday : )


	4. Chapter 3

Ollivander’s was a complete disaster.

_ No _ , Remus thought to himself,  _ that’s an exaggeration _ . 

Sirius’s dramatic antics must’ve been rubbing off of him somehow.

To rephrase, Ollivander’s was a nightmare. 

Poor Percy just couldn’t seem to find a wand, and the results were getting more explosive than the last.

Objectively, both Ollivander and Remus knew that the damage could be fixed with a flick of their wands, but that didn’t stop either from flinching at the large hole in the wall, the shattered windows, or the knee deep water the trio found themselves in. Still, Ollivander seemed to brighten with every wand, his expression delighted at the challenge.

Percy on the other hand, seemed to get more and more despondent as the wands rejected him. Gone was the carefree attitude Remus had seen earlier, instead all he saw was someone who was pretending to not care as each wand was snatched from his hand.

Ollivander must’ve noticed it too, because he was muttering to himself, “Hazel? Hazel wood works best, unyielding for sure, dragon heartstring or phoenix feather? How curious, very curious.”

Eventually the old wizard brought out a box, revealing a sand colored wand with a delicately carved handle, “Hazel wood, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches, unyielding. Go on, give it a wave.”

Remus watched apprehensively as Percy reached out for the wand, and as soon as the boy’s fingers closed around the wood, both men knew this was the one. Percy waved it around, a trail of blue sparks swirling as it formed a majestic horse, the creature dancing around the three wizards. 

“Perseus Jackson,” Ollivander said bowing, “it has been an honor to fit your wand. May you do even more great things with it.”

Stunned, Percy nodded, “I’m sorry about your shop,” he said apologetically.

Ollivander waved him off, drawing his own wand and with a quick incantation, the shop was as pristine as when they first entered it. 

After paying and saying goodbye to the old wandmaker, Remus and Percy made their way down the street, heading towards one of the alleys to take a break, “Is there anywhere else you want to go? I’m supposed to take you to Hogwarts after this.”

Percy opened his mouth to respond when the sharp cracks of apparition sounded in the air, and they became surrounded by people in black robes wearing silver masks.

“Death Eaters,” Remus hissed, drawing his wand, “Percy get behind me.”

“No one needs to get hurt Lupin,” one of the masked men said, “we just want the boy.”

“Our lord wants us to be discreet,” another argued, “we don’t have time for this.”

The Death Eaters seemed to be in agreement as they quickly sent some stunner spells in Remus’s direction. The werewolf barely had any time to put up a shield before another came up behind him and knocked him out from behind.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Percy facing off the Death Eaters, the boy’s face unreadable and  _ terrifying _ .

And somehow, he was assured that Percy would be alright.

* * *

Percy glanced back to where the werewolf had fallen, although the steady rising and falling of his chest assured the demigod that Remus was still alive.

Slowly, he turned back to the Death Eaters, still inwardly laughing at the name, “I just want to leave,” he said, raising his arms in surrender.

In a moment of hesitation, Percy contemplated just fighting. He could feel the tiny droplets of water around him, the water within the pipes, the water within their  _ veins _ . One tiny gesture and he could have them knocked out within seconds.

Maybe he could make all the blood rush from their heads, maybe he could make their blood boil, maybe he could make them  _ choke _ on it until they were begging him for mercy and---

_ “---please Percy,” Annabeth’s desperate voice came out in sobs, “some things aren’t meant to be controlled. Promise me, please.” _

But he made a promise, so he suppressed the urge, ignored their steady heartbeats, and _ maintained _ the illusion of a boy who doesn’t have godly powers.

Wordlessly one of the masked men shot a red beam of light at him, and Percy blinked as it hit him, the red sparks curving around his body as if it didn’t know what to do.

He had wondered if this kind of magic would have a similar effect to the Egyptians’ magic.

Sometimes he loved being right.

Percy raised an eyebrow, “Are you done?” he drawled, “or are you going to continue shooting lights at me like the  _ stupid _ \---”

\---three Death Eaters shot the similar red light at him simultaneously.

He blacked out, inwardly cursing his life all the way down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was looking at wand woods for Percy and I found hazel wood and apparently they can detect underground springs??? and reflects the emotions of their handler???


	5. Chapter 4

Percy Jackson woke up on a four-poster bed.

The room he was in was highly decorated, filled with trinkets he imagined only rich people would have. The atmosphere itself felt dark and foreboding, and that was when he knew he was in enemy territory.

Silently sliding off the bed and reaching for his pen, Percy made his way to the window, pushed aside the green velvet curtains, and peered outside. He saw absolutely nothing, stretched out as far as the eye could see. Between the nearby forests and the green fields, this  _ manor _ seemed to be the only thing for miles.

It was a stark contrast to Manhattan’s busy crowded streets.

At one point, he swore he saw some albino peacocks strutting across the grounds, their pretentious attitude not unlike the goddess they are sacred to.

He was a little upset at himself for letting them capture him, he didn’t usually let his guard down around threats like that, even if they didn’t seem so threatening. 

Percy contemplated the best escape plan. He could summon Mrs. O’Leary to him, but that would draw some unwanted attention. He could just try to fight his way out, the minions seemed like they didn’t want to hurt him, but he wasn’t sure about blowing his cover just for that.

He could wait, Percy doubted that Dumbledore would leave him alone for long, the old man didn’t seem like the type.

Waiting seemed like the best option, even if he loathed it with his entire being. As a demigod, restlessness was just a by-product of the lifestyle, after Tartarus, it increased tenfold.

So caught up in his thoughts, Percy didn’t register the door to his room opening, nor the sound of someone walking towards him. Instead he felt the magic emanating from the person in strong waves, as suffocating as it was strangely comforting.

“Perseus,” the voice was high, terribly cold, and it rounded out with a hiss that reminded him of the dracanae, “my grandson.”

The demigod turned slowly and faced his grandfather. Voldemort looked barely human, more akin to the monsters Percy regularly faced.

By the gods,  _ Kronos _ looked more human than the thing standing before him did.

He had bone white skin with slits instead of a nose, blood red eyes with cat-like pupils, and a skeletal figure for a body.

Voldemort’s entire appearance seemed so fundamentally  _ wrong _ and so visibly horrifying to look at that Percy struggled to maintain eye contact without instinctively uncapping Riptide and decapitating him.

It was so hard to imagine that out of this monstrosity came his mom, one of the most kind-hearted and beautiful people to ever exist.

“Grandfather,” Percy replied stiffly, tensing as the thing  _ glided _ towards him, using his long spidery fingers to grab Percy’s chin, tilting it left and right as if observing him.

“I see the eyes of a child who grew up too fast,” Voldemort said, his red eyes narrowed in anger, “Tell me child, who did this to you?”

Percy jerked out of his grasp, quickly putting distance between him and Voldemort, “It doesn’t matter,” he replied shortly, “they’re dead.”

Voldemort studied him for a moment, studied the way Percy tensed when he looked at him,  _ it was stressing Percy out, seeing a monster in front of him and suppressing every instinct to fight _ , his expression openly curious, “Does my appearance frighten you?”

“No,” Percy scoffed, averting his eyes, “it’s just a lot to take in, having a snake for a relative.”

_ Wouldn’t be the craziest thing to be related to _ , Percy thought bitterly.

He heard Voldemort’s hissing laughter and wondered what the  _ fuck _ did he do to make his life like this when he felt the magic in the air shift.

Percy glanced back and instead of the monstrous appearance, Voldemort looked like a man,  _ di immortals, _ he looked like  _ Percy _ . The wizard still had the blood red eyes, the only sign of the monster underneath, but the rest of him looked normal,  _ human _ .

“Is this better?” he asked, his voice a low baritone, velvety and smooth, “After all it would not do for my appearance to terrorize my only family now would it?”

Percy could only stare, speechless.

Voldemort walked towards him, sitting down on the bed as if the entire situation was normal. The two men just stared at each other, the air between them tense and uncertain.

Dumbledore described the man before him as one incapable of any positive emotion, incapable of caring for anyone but himself. Percy had believed it, the notion itself wasn’t hard to imagine, he had too many relatives who thought that way.

“How’s,” he saw Voldemort hesitate, “how is my daughter?”

Percy stiffened, alarms blaring in his mind. He decided, at that moment, no matter how  _ human _ Voldemort seemed, he would  _ never _ get to be even  _ near _ his mom and Estelle.

“Fine,” he replied, turning away so he didn’t have to see the expressions on Voldemort’s face, “she’s doing well.”

He heard the man exhale, the sound way too loud to  _ not  _ be intentional, “Good, it’s what she deserves.”

Percy glanced back, surprised, and was met with Voldemort’s bitter smile, “Despite what Dumbledore wants you to think, I do care about what’s mine,” he paused before adding, “you remind me of  _ her _ you know, your grandmother.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Voldemort’s expression turned regretful, “No, I suppose I don’t. I’d like to rectify that, if you’d let me.”

Percy turned towards him, his expression blank. Voldemort simply smiled, it seemed so  _ genuine _ and Percy  _ hated it _ , “Indulge me? For family’s sake?”

Something inside him seemed to snap, and all the pent up anger, fear, and restlessness was unleashed in one simple sentence, “My entire life has been for  _ family’s sake _ ,” he snarled, “ _ and I’m fucking sick of it _ .”

The warm smile on Voldemort’s face vanished, replaced by something cold, “I see,” he drawled, his expression contorted in anger and suddenly he didn’t look so human anymore, “my condolences.”

How strange, that Percy felt more comfortable in his grandfather’s anger, how peculiar, that he felt more at ease now that the placating and fake smiles were  _ gone _ .

“My grandfather died before I was born,” Percy said sharply, stress building in his gut, “the other one died when I was 16. I don’t know you, I don’t  _ want _ to know you.”

“You wish us to be enemies instead?” Voldemort sneered, “already you allow Dumbledore’s lies to taint your perception of me? I never knew  _ any _ descendent of mine would be so naive. There is no good or evil my grandson, there is only  _ power _ \---”

“ _ Shut up _ !” Percy snarled, and with a harsh tug in his gut, all the water droplets in the atmosphere sharpened until hundreds of ice daggers were pointed precariously towards Voldemort, the closest one mere inches from his face.

“---and those too weak to seek it,” Voldemort finished, his lips stretched into a proud smirk, and with a wave of his wand, the ice turned to water and fell to the ground, “you, my grandson, are  _ powerful _ , and yet I sense you are holding back. Why? Why restrain yourself from truly becoming  _ great _ ?”

“Some things aren’t meant to be controlled,” Percy recited in a low voice, as if he was telling it more to himself than to the opposite party, “and hubris is a fatal flaw to have.”

“Only for those who are weak,” Voldemort scoffed, “Perseus, those who cannot wield the power  _ we _ can try to justify it by saying it’s morally  _ wrong _ . They reassure themselves by suppressing those with potential. Dark magic is outlawed here because a few can practice it without being consumed by it, and those who cannot envy us. Why else do you think I’m doing what I’m doing?”

“I’ve been told it’s because you’re committing genocide against mortals and muggleborns,” Percy said bitterly, “because you want a society where the purebloods rule.”

Voldemort’s expression twisted into one of disgust, “ _ Mudbloods _ ,” he spat, “bring nothing but  _ complacency,  _ and that is the wizarding world’s true enemy, not me. I rally the purebloods because they understand the horrible fate we are trying to avoid, a world where all magic is monitored out of the fear of the  _ weak _ .”

“If you truly believe that,” Percy scoffed, “then you are more delusional than I thought.”

“No Perseus, I am looking at the bigger picture,” his expression turned condescending, “and someday you will understand.”

“I just want to learn magic and leave, I don’t care what you wizards do with your world.”

“Oh Perseus, you say that as if you aren’t one of us.”

Voldemort stood up suddenly, the transfiguration on his face melted away until it revealed the true monster underneath. Percy flinched, his hand darting towards Riptide.

“I imagine Dumbledore has some plan to “rescue” you from my grasp,” Voldemort laughed, his tone mocking, “so go back to Hogwarts, enjoy your time there, learn your magic, and if it is not enough for you, if you  _ crave _ more, contact me, and I will show you power in its purest form.”

With that, the dark wizard swept out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Percy huffed in frustration, the ground trembling slightly beneath him and the temperature dropped around him. He paced back and forth, his thoughts swirling in his head. He thought about Voldemort’s,  _ his grandfather _ , words and wondered why he even bothered indulging these stupid eglomaniacs with their stupid attempts to sway him to their side.

And yet, despite his questionable sanity, Voldemort, in a weird, twisted way, was  _ right _ . Percy  _ hated _ restraining himself, hated constantly keeping his powers in check just because he could hurt someone,  _ scare _ those he cared about. 

_ Some things aren’t meant to be controlled. _

Percy scoffed internally, his entire life has been something that wasn’t meant to be, what was one more?

He knew it was selfish of him, but he just wanted some semblance of _control_ in his life, something that has been denied constantly by the gods. Percy just wished Annabeth wasn't so frightened by it, wasn't so afraid of something that was a part of who he was.

_She's afraid of you going too far_ , his mind said, _she's afraid of you becoming just like Luke_.

But... he was thousands of miles away from her, they were separated by an entire ocean, and there was no one here for Percy to look out for. He could practice it in the wizarding world along with his magic, learn to control the urge, learn to control the _power_.

_He won't go too far_ , he promises, _he won't become like Luke._

Then he could go back home fixed, _safe_ , and not a burden to everyone he loves.

* * *

His thoughts drifted back to his grandfather as he flopped back onto the bed.

Without the suffocating presence of Voldemort, he was able to think about his situation with a clearer head. 

Dumbledore… was Dumbledore right about his grandfather?

Despite his monstrous appearance, Voldemort seemed human, a human with a god-complex and a whole bunch of issues Percy didn’t even  _ want _ to  _ think _ about, but a person with emotions and feelings and  _ not _ the cold-hearted villain that Dumbledore had painted him to be. 

_ But what separates a human from a monster? _

Percy didn’t know, not really. He identifies monsters as the ones who attack him, the ones who he kills in self-defense.

But Gabe had hurt him, attacked him and his family, and although in his mind Percy wouldn’t hesitate to call that pathetic excuse for a man a monster, deep down he knew that Gabe Ugliano was human.

A human who was spending eternity in the Fields of Punishment, but a human nonetheless.

Where was he going with this?

How did he even end up in this situation? All he wanted to do was to learn to control his magic so that he wouldn't be an even more danger to the people he cares about. Somehow, it led to him being kidnapped by his grandfather.

Logically, he knew that Voldemort probably kept tabs on his daughter, and that’s how he found out about Percy, but everything about it was still suspicious.

Why wait 17 years? Why let Dumbledore, a man on the opposite side of the war, introduce him to the wizarding world, and thus influencing Percy against his grandfather? How did Voldemort know Percy would be at Diagon Alley, in that specific alley? Was magic really that powerful?

But it wasn’t Voldemort who approached Percy first.

It was Dumbledore.

_ What if _ , his mind whispered,  _ he risked your safety in an attempt to solidify your allegiance against Voldemort? _

Unlikely

_ Is it? Is it really? _

The door opened, and revealed a greasy-haired man with a sour expression permanently etched on his face, “Mr. Jackson,” the man said, “My name is Professor Snape and I am here to take you back to Hogwarts.”

Percy nodded, not reacting when Snape pulled out a gold coin, whispered  _ Portus _ , and handed the coin to him. The demigod held the coin as tightly as he could, silently preparing for the rush that came from Portkey travel.

He ignored his mind’s triumphant voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been toying with the idea of siren!Percy??? Like he has charmspeak to an extent. Is that too much??? I would like some opinions pls


	6. Chapter 5

* * *

Severus Snape and Percy Jackson landed safely at the gates of Hogwarts.

Percy barely had any time to marvel at the magnificent architecture when Snape grabbed his arm and started leading him inside the castle, “I’m supposed to take you directly to the headmaster,” he said when Percy looked at him questioningly.

They quickly passed through the halls of Hogwarts, breezing through the moving portraits and walked through a few disgruntled ghosts who immediately looked the other way once they saw Percy’s dark expression.

Finally the pair arrived at the headmaster’s office. Snape muttered the password to the gargoyle and led Percy through the staircase that opened up.

Once they reached the entrance, Snape nodded curtly to Percy and made his way back down the stairs, his black robes billowing dramatically as he walked.

Percy walked in the room, a cluttered space filled with silver objects and loudly protesting paintings, towards the old man with twinkling blue eyes and a pet phoenix perched next to him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“How are you feeling Percy?” Dumbledore asked, his voice deceptively gentle, “we were all quite distraught when we learned of your kidnapping. We were very lucky to get you out. Voldemort… he didn’t  _ hurt _ you did he?”

_ di immortals sometimes I hate being right _

“It was fine,” he replied, “nothing happened, we just talked.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows drew together in feigned or possibly genuine confusion, “Talked? That’s all?”

Percy nodded, fighting to keep the scowl off his face, “Mhm, apparently he just wanted to get to know his grandson, see how his daughter’s doing, y’know, get to catch up with his family.”

Dumbledore folded his wrinkly old hands together, “That is quite troubling,” he said seriously, “Percy, don’t be deceived, many have fallen for his empty words, but that’s all they are,  _ empty _ .”

“No, he showed me his true side quickly enough.”

The old man leaned forward, almost eager, “And?”

“And we talked about magic, power, reshaping the world,” he found a great sense satisfaction at seeing the wizard pale, “I told him his methods were delusional, he called me naive,” Percy’s tone turned thoughtful, “honestly, it wasn’t the worst interaction I’ve ever had with a family member. At least this one didn’t try to kill me.”

“How… interesting,” Dumbledore said, “just remember Percy, that man doesn’t care about anyone but himself, don’t be fooled by his act.”

Internally Percy rolled his eyes, “Yeah whatever. Anything else you want to tell me?”

Dumbledore blinked in surprise, “I suppose… I wanted to inform you that now that you’re here, your classes will begin next week,” he said, clearly caught off guard, “you will meet with various teachers to catch up so you will be ready for 7th year. Also, the Forbidden Forest is strictly prohibited and there will be consequences if you go there.”

Percy resolved to go to the forest immediately after this was over. If only for one last middle finger towards the old bastard he was beginning to dislike.

“Right, okay. Is that it?”

“Of course. I’ll have Professor Mcgonagall escort you to your room. You will be sorted on September 1st with the rest of the first years, and that is when we will introduce you to the wizarding world.”

A tall elderly woman with a severe bun appeared in the entrance, her smile strained and clipped, “Mr. Jackson, if you would follow me please.”

Without hesitation, Percy turned away from Dumbledore and followed her.

* * *

Minerva observed the teen next to her.

Despite his slouched figure and averted gaze, she felt the power emanating off of him in waves. There was something  _ ancient _ within him, lurking, begging to be unleashed. 

Perseus Jackson seemed so  _ angry _ .

She could only begin to imagine his feelings towards the whole situation. Learning that a dead relative was alive was one thing, but learning that he’s a mass-murdering wizard is another. Then getting thrust into a world of magic and being kidnapped by said psychopathic grandfather could not be good for  _ anyone’s _ psyche.

Her heart went out to both Perseus and Harry, the poor boys shouldered with heavy responsibilities and legacies neither deserve. 

All these thoughts and more raged in her mind as she led him to one of the old professor’s quarters, opening the door to a standard bedroom, “If you need anything,” she said stiffly, “don’t hesitate to call for one of the house-elves. They can assist you with whatever you need.”

Perseus offered her a weary smile, “Thank you,” he said, and her heart clenched.

Instead she nodded, “Of course Mr. Jackson, I will see you in Transfiguration,” then she left---

\---cursing Dumbledore every step of the way.

* * *

The moment the intimidating witch was gone, Percy observed his room. 

It was a lot less extravagant than the one he found himself in a couple hours ago, but that was expected. He found his trunk sitting comfortably at the foot of his bed, most likely filled with all the things he bought at Diagon Alley.

Quickly opening it, Percy grabbed his wand, immediately feeling a rush of warmth fill his entire body. He inspected the details of the wood, unsure on how to use it. The demigod also noticed that the end was pretty sharp so if all else failed, he could just stab someone with it.

Pocketing his wand, Percy continued to rifle through his new stuff, finding his forgotten money bag stashed in the corner. The trunk was also a lot larger than he expected.

Percy grabbed some drachmas from his bag. He wasn’t sure if Iris Messaging would work this time, but he could at least try.

He ignored the growing sense of dread in his stomach. It was clear to see how  _ blatantly _ Dumbledore was trying to manipulate him against Voldemort, and that was the thought that disturbed him. The wizard wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

_ How stupid do you think I am? _

Percy thought of the gods, using,  _ toying  _ with the demigods to serve their own needs, their own end goals.

He thought of what he just experienced in the last 48 hours.

The dread settled into cold anger.

Here he was again, caught between two sides trying to use him for their own gain. Percy had thought the wizarding world would be an escape from his hectic life, that they would at least have the  _ decency _ to not involve him in their shit. 

Both of them could go rot in Tartarus. 

But first, he had some things to take care of.

“Uh hello? House-elves?” Percy called out to the empty room, feeling incredibly stupid.

A loud  _ crack _ caused him to jump on his bed, Riptide uncapped and held out in front of him defensively. Percy refrained from swinging his sword at the  _ thing _ in the middle of the room.

_ By the gods _ , why was everything in the wizarding world so goddamn  _ weird. _

The house-elf looked  _ nothing _ like he was expecting. Honestly, Percy didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t  _ that _ .

It came up to his knees, wore a towel like a toga, and was a wrinkly thing with large ears and  _ even larger _ bulging eyes.

House-elves had no right to look like that.

Quickly and quietly before the elf could notice, Percy capped Riptide and slowly slid off the bed, “Hi?” he asked, trying not to cringe when the thing set its eyes on  _ him _ .

“Oh hello! I am Dobby sir! You is Perseus Jackson, Headmaster Dumbledore told Dobby about you!” the elf chirped happily, “you’re grandfather is the bad man!”

_ What the fuck what the fuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck _

“Right,” Percy responded warily, “listen, I need to get to the Forbidden Forest. Can you show me how to get there?”

The elf,  _ Dobby _ , gasped, “No! No no no, Perseus Jackson is not to go to the  _ Forest _ ! Dobby won’t allow it!”

“I won’t be there long,” Percy said, ignoring the fact he’s actually arguing with an  _ elf _ , “I just want to see what it looks like. Dumbledore doesn’t have to know, promise.”

Dobby stubbornly shook his head, “It’s not safe for students, Dobby knows! It’s not safe for house-elves either.”

Percy took a deep breath, praying silently that it would work, “ _ Dobby _ ,” he ordered, forcing his will on the house-elf, “ _ take me to the Forbidden Forest? _ ”

He didn’t know if it would work, his magic, but it was worth a shot.

When the elf’s eyes glazed over and began to sway, Percy cheered internally, “Dobby will take Perseus to the Forbidden Forest,” he said solemnly, taking the demigod’s hand and the both of them disapparated with a  _ crack _ .

* * *

The pair appeared at the entrance of the forest, and Percy immediately let go of Dobby’s hand.

The house-elf, on the other hand, began to panic, “Dobby shouldn’t take you here!” he wailed, “Bad elf! Bad Dobby! Perseus Jackson, please, you mustn’t!”

“Hey, hey,” Percy said soothingly, doing his best to placate the distressed elf, “it’s okay, just,  _ calm down _ ,  _ go back to the castle, and don’t tell anyone about this. _ ”

Dobby stopped fighting, his eyes glazed over, and a dreamy smile appeared on his face, “Dobby won’t tell anyone!” he said happily, disapparating back to the castle.

Sighing loudly, Percy turned his attention to the forest, unfazed by its looming trees and dark atmosphere.

If he squinted, it was almost like he was back at camp.

He saw dryads half emerge from their trees as he passed, some were even bold enough to brush their branch-like fingers against him.

_ Half-blood _ , they whispered,  _ son of the sea. _

Soon, he was deep enough in the forest until all he could see were the surrounding trees. Light barely broke through the thick canopy of leaves, leaving Percy to rely on the glowing light of his sword.

Occasionally he heard the rustle of an animal, the curious whispers of dryads, or something else he couldn’t identify.

In the quiet forest, the voices in his head seemed to echo louder than before, but he ignored them, focusing on his task.

He willed the water droplets in the air to become mist and used the light of his sword to create a rainbow. Fishing out a drachma from his pocket and tossed it in the sea of colors.

“O Fleecy, do me a solid, show me Annabeth Chase.”

The drachma passed through the rainbow and fell to the ground.

Percy stared at the fallen drachma and cursed, bending down to pick it up. He had wanted to contact her at least one more time, if only to see her again. 

_ I guess Iris Messaging still isn’t working _

The demigod looked around, wondering what the heck he was going to do here now that his IM didn’t work.

_ Do you see my lord? Do you see us? _

Percy turned to the voices, startled at the sight of the skeletal pegasi. Skin stretched over their prominent bones, webbing where feathers should have been. Their eyes were milky white, and yet they were staring directly at him.

_ Of course he sees us. Why wouldn’t he? _

“What are you?” he asked, breathless.

_ We are the reincarnation of every deceased pegasi. We are called thestrals my lord. _

“I see you have found the thestrals,” a mystical voice spoke behind him, “I am not surprised.”

Percy turned quickly, and came face-to-face with the goddess Hecate. She regarded him cooly from beneath her hood, this time without her animal companions.

“What do you want,” Percy asked.

Hecate seemed to hesitate, lowering her hood to reveal her face, “Perseus Jackson,” she considered her next words, “I have a task for you.”

Percy tilted his head to the side, dread pooling in his stomach, “Oh?”

She gestured to the forest around them, “As you have seen, the British wizarding world is in danger of collapse. This second war will result in too many deaths and their population would never recover. I need you to stop them before it happens.”

“Why me?” Percy asked, scowling, “I told all of you that I’m  _ done _ being your pawn---”

A rush of agony swept through him, causing his knees to collapse as he clutched his head in pain. 

_ He refused to scream. _

“Watch your tone half-blood,” Hecate said coldly as the pain lessened, “I am not one of your Olympians you can speak freely to.”

Percy glared at her from the ground.

“My existence relies on these magical communities,” Hecate said, “whether or not they realize their magic comes from  _ me _ , I need them, and the loss of a community as big as this one…” her voice trailed off, the unspoken consequences hanging between them.

Percy still wasn’t convinced, “Hazel Levesque is  _ your _ champion, wouldn’t she make a better choice?”

Hecate’s expression became troubled, “Hazel’s magic… manifests itself differently. The wizards here would not accept her as their own,” she paused, “ _ you _ , however, have the advantage of having a relative here, a prominent figure in this whole war. You were the more suitable choice.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Percy said sarcastically, turning to walk away, “but my answer is no.”

Her words stopped him, “I’m sure your mother told you of how I suppressed your magic,” she said with a cold smile, “kept you from the minds of wizards who would not hesitate to use you for their own gain. Do this for me, and I will seal it away  _ forever _ . The wizarding world can be a thing of your past, and you won’t ever have to deal with magic or its consequences ever again.”

“ _ You--- _ ” Percy’s initial words died in his throat as disbelief colored his expression, “ _ you’re _ the reason why my magic started acting up?” he turned to face her angrily, “ _ you’re  _ the reason I’m  _ in _ this fucking mess?”

She ignored him, “Your grandfather was right about one thing,” Hecate said impassively, “magic is becoming too restricted here, too monitored. It is an extension of one’s self, a method of expression. Once you begin to set in,” her lips curled in disgust, “ _ regulations _ , you are stripping it of its original purpose.”

“And yet,” she continued, “Voldemort sees the solution as getting rid of muggleborns entirely. Purging magical blood solves nothing.”

“What do you want from me?” Percy asked, his tone cold with anger.

“For now,” she said, “I want the unnecessary magical deaths to stop. However you choose to solve that problem is up to you,” Mist began to form around her body as her voice grew fainter, “choose your path wisely Perseus Jackson.”

Then she was gone.

Percy stared at the empty spot, his sword heavy in his grip. 

Hecate  _ needed _ him.

The realization itself almost made him laugh out loud.

The loss of a magical world as big as the one in Britain would weaken her significantly. Percy could just walk away from it, the incentive she blatantly dangled in front of him was shallow at best. He could just learn to control his magic, then leave these wizards to tear themselves apart. It wasn’t his problem, he didn’t even like the so-called “good guys.”

_ Oh Perseus, you say that as if you aren’t one of us. _

Voldemort’s stupid voice rang inside his head and Percy remembered who exactly he had for a relative.

A grandfather that was killing innocents. A grandfather that wanted to rule the world through fear and bloodshed.

Even if he wasn’t a part of this world, even if he didn’t want to be here, he wasn’t going to stand by while innocent people died for something they had no control over.

Percy sighed audibly, turning around and heading towards the castle.

He didn’t care for Dumbledore or Voldemort. 

He didn’t care for their little power struggle, about the two mortal men trying to be gods.

But one of them didn’t want to commit genocide.

And Percy Jackson will always fight on behalf of the people.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the suggestions! In the end I decided on not giving him siren powers. However in the beginning he mentioned being able to force his will on others (accidental magic) so that's what happened in this chapter, only more purposeful this time. Hope you enjoyed : )


	7. Chapter 6

* * *

Percy barely exited the forest before he was stopped by an angry Professor Mcgonagall.

He didn’t have any time to defend himself before she started scolding him, “Mr. Jackson!” she snapped, “you’ve been here for barely two hours and you have already broken one of our rules. You are _very_ lucky to come out of here unscathed, the forest is forbidden for a _reason_.”

Percy wondered if Dobby ratted him out.

Mcgonagall answered that question for him, “And another thing,” she said angrily, “enchanting one of our house-elves! Mr. Jackson I understand you are _new_ to this whole thing, but enforcing your will on others is considered _very_ dark magic and can land you a life sentence in Azkaban,” she scowled, “luckily Dobby was able to break through your enchantment and find me.”

He bowed his head, “Yes ma’am,” he said politely. 

“Come with me,” she said sharply, “since school has not started yet you will not be assigned detention. But rest assured we will not be so lenient the next time you decide to break our rules,” she began walking back towards the castle, “perhaps, since you have so much free time, we can begin your lessons _now_.”

Percy groaned internally, but followed her dutifully back to the castle.

_Ugh_ , he thought, _school_.

* * *

The following weeks passed by in a blur.

Percy was honestly _swamped_ with work, he felt like every teacher was trying to see how much homework they could assign before he actually started _drowning_ in assignments.

Although, given the way Snape was side-eyeing him, the theory felt plausible.

Unfortunately for Percy, the professor was still salty about the incident that occurred in the potions room the other week.

In his defense, Percy was actually pretty good at Potions, _most of the time_.

The times where he could get his body to actually _start_ the potion were good days. Given that all potions were water based, Percy had a natural affinity for it. The problem was that sometimes his brain ran away from him and he would start staring into the empty space, lost in his thoughts and unable to continue his potion. This invited disaster in the form of explosions, _especially_ with the more time sensitive potions.

Percy rolled his eyes, remembering Snape’s glowering expression the third time it happened.

* * *

“I understand your education is… _sorely lacking_ ,” Snape sneered, vanishing the remains of the ruined potion, “but in my classroom I accept nothing less than absolute perfection. These beginner mistakes are… _unacceptable_ at NEWT level.”

“I have ADHD and dyslexia,” Percy replied shortly, “they’re both learning disabilities that make it harder for me to work in the classroom, and your _spidery cursive writing_ doesn’t really help _either_.”

“Do you honestly expect special treatment from me?”

“If you want me to perform at the same level as other students, then yeah,” Percy said sarcastically, “mortal schools have no problem offering accommodations for kids like me. I didn’t realize the wizarding world was so backwards about it.”

* * *

Thankfully Snape was the only teacher who was an asshole about it. Everyone else was very accommodating and helpful.

If Percy was honest, going through 6 years of work in one summer was a lot, but it wasn’t as much as 6 years in a mortal, no _muggle_ , school would be.

He was starting to become a little concerned for the wizarding society in general. _This_ was their only education and it was possible to learn it all in one summer?

That wasn’t very good.

His favorite class was probably Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dumbledore taught him and although Percy didn’t really like the man, he would begrudgingly admit that the old wizard was a good teacher.

Dueling Dumbledore was a great way to relive all the stress that would build up over the course of the week. He was powerful and had a vast array of spells at his disposal, whereas Percy was still learning the basics, which meant he had to be clever.

And yet sometimes, it felt like Dumbledore was training him for something. Percy had asked where the regular Defense professor was, but the wizard brushed him off.

“The Defense Against the Dark Arts position has been held by many in a very short time,” Dumbledore had said, “some even believe it to be cursed. But don’t worry Percy, I assure you, you will meet her in the fall.”

Dumbledore had then brandished his wand, “Now then, shall we see what you have learned?”

Percy wasn’t a fan of the way wizards fought. They seemed to favor fighting from a distance and exclusively with their magic.

Now, he had nothing against archers. He had a lot of respect for Apollo kids and the Hunters, but even they knew how to fight close-contact if the opportunity arose. 

The way the wizards heavily relied on their magic, in all aspects of their life, just didn’t sit well with him.

But who was he to judge?

* * *

Percy quickly grew accustomed to the castle. It was a vast space that sometimes made him feel lonely, but there were also so many empty rooms and hidden areas that just exploring the place was an adventure.

Don’t even get him started on the moving staircases.

But his favorite place to hang out was the Great Lake. Whenever he felt overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all, he would just dive into its warm waters and sink to the bottom, interacting with the mermaid colony and playing with the Giant Squid that lived there.

Occasionally he would get attacked by a few underwater creatures he didn’t recognize, but all he had to do was brandish his sword and they would flee from the Celestial Bronze blade.

Squidward, the giant squid, told him that they were called grindylows.

“Don’t you ever miss the open sea?” Percy had asked.

_Sometimes,_ Squidward said, _but I have been here so long I have almost forgotten what it feels like._

Percy also hung around the Great Lake to begin honing his powers. He began with water manipulation, the basic push and pull motion. He created little waves, then bigger ones, then little ones again.

The water responded immediately to his call, and he felt so much more at home then than any time he’s ever tried to cast a spell.

It was liberating.

* * *

By the time the end of August rolled around, Percy felt ready.

He hadn’t mastered anything, but he had a general grasp on each branch of magic and could perform a spell without embarrassing himself.

He had summoned Mrs. O’Leary on his birthday and discreetly shadow-traveled back home to celebrate with his family.

After all, 18 is a big milestone, for both mortals and demigods.

It was a nice way to say goodbye. 

Dumbledore smiled at him when he came back, his eyes twinkling knowingly, except that Percy wasn’t sure _what_ Dumbledore knew about, and _that_ was a concept that put him on edge.

“You have improved greatly in the past 3 months,” he said, as if pleased with himself, “but your education is far from over. Are you ready for your 7th year Percy?”

Percy Jackson shrugged, bracing himself for all the bullshit he’s going to have to put up with in the next 9 months, “Yeah,” he said, resigned, “sure.”

* * *

Harry Potter wasn’t sure how to feel about anything.

On one hand, he’s away from the Dursleys and living with his godfather.

On the other hand, he found out his two best friends had been here together for most of the summer without telling him, Dumbledore’s avoiding him, the Order isn’t letting him in on _anything_ , _and_ he almost got expelled from Hogwarts.

That doesn’t even _begin_ to cover the whole ‘The-Boy-Who-Lied’ debacle.

So when the Order meeting was over and the door opened, Harry quickly went inside to see if Dumbledore was there, hoping to talk to him at least once before the school year started.

Instead, all he found were Sirius and Molly, both glaring at each other from across the table, neither noticing him walk in.

“Was Dumbledore here?” Harry asked.

Molly broke eye-contact with his godfather and turned to him, “I’m afraid not Harry,” she said sympathetically, “he’s been very busy at Hogwarts these past few months.”

“He deserves to know,” Sirius argued.

Molly glared at him at the same time Harry asked, “Know what?”

“Dumbledore should be the one to say it,” Molly snapped just as Sirius scoffed.

“Like Dumbledore’s going to tell him, if anything he’ll wait until the boy’s at Hogwarts before springing it on to him.”

“Know _what_ ,” Harry repeated, growing frustrated.

Molly glared at Sirius one last time, “I don’t approve of this,” she said.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “You act as if I care.”

The Weasley matriarch gasped, offended, and stormed off in a huff.

Sirius turned to Harry, smiling weakly, “Are you excited for Hogwarts?”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, I guess,” he looked down bitterly, “but it’s going to be harder when everyone thinks I’m a fraud.”

“Don’t get caught up in what everyone thinks of you,” he said, “the only opinions that matter are from the people closest to you, and we know you’re telling the truth.”

Harry looked up and smiled, “Thanks Sirius,” he paused, “now what is it that you wanted to tell me?”

Sirius hesitated, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, “ I want you to be prepared,” he began, “this year’s going to be a little different.”

Harry was confused.

“Voldemort has a grandson,” Sirius said solemnly, “and he’ll be attending Hogwarts with you.”

Harry blinked, unsure if he heard his godfather correctly.

“I’m sorry _what_.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow the school year is finally beginning. Hope you enjoyed : )


	8. Chapter 7

* * *

Harry sat pensively in the carriage as it pulled into Hogwarts. 

This year felt foreboding. 

Nobody believed him about Voldemort’s return, he’s already received so many dirty looks on the train. Dumbledore’s been avoiding him like the plague, Hermione and Ron both have prefect duties all the time, the year barely started and he already feels alone.

And now Voldemort’s grandson was here too.

Sirius told him that his name is Percy Jackson, and that he will be in 7th year. Apparently he and Dumbledore visited Jackson in America, and that the reason Dumbledore’s been busy all summer was because he was tutoring Jackson in magic, as the teen has never heard of magic until then.

Harry didn’t bother hiding his bitterness about the whole situation. 

“I don’t get it,” he told his friends, “Padfoot told me that Jackson didn’t know anything about magic. Why would Dumbledore bring him to Hogwarts? Especially now?”

Hermione also looked pensive, “I’m not sure Harry,” she and Ron shared a glance, “but we have to trust Dumbledore, he’s a wise man, and I don’t think he’ll do anything without a good reason.”

“Nargles are messing with his head,” Luna said wisely, “even great wizards like Dumbledore are susceptible to them.”

Hermione huffed, annoyed, “For the last time Luna,” she replied teresley, “nargles don’t exist.”

Luna looked at the other girl curiously, “I wonder what it’s like,” she said, her voice as serene as ever, “to be as closed-minded as you.”

Hermione bristled in anger, and the rest of the group prepared themselves for a long train ride.

* * *

Percy wasn’t nervous, not really.

He could hear the loud call of the Sorting Hat, the cheers of the students after every name. 

Soon it would be his turn.

Dumbledore told him about the four houses, although the explanation was kinda vague. You got sorted according to your core traits? Or was it according to the traits you valued most? 

Percy didn’t know where he was going to go, and frankly he didn’t really care. There was a negative bias within some houses he knew, but it didn’t matter to him.

Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.

According to Dumbledore, Voldemort was a Slytherin. He was the main reason the house gained an evil reputation. He was the direct descendent to Salazar Slytherin himself, making  _ him _ the heir.

Percy Jackson, the newest heir to Slytherin.

He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where he went.

“Jackson, Perseus,” Mcgonagall called out.

Percy snapped out of his thoughts, his vision zeroing in on the stool, the hat, the teachers---

\---the thousands of eyes from children he didn’t know.

Maybe he was a little nervous.

But he wasn’t about to show it.

The demigod took a deep breath, closing his eyes and steadying himself. He ignored the whispers as he walked towards the stool. He ignored the stares as he sat down, the large hat being placed over his head.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

_ What makes you think you belong? You put on a hat and suddenly you’re one of them? _

_ Soon they’ll see what you’re really are. _

_ And when they do--- _

_ \---they’ll want nothing to do with you. _

  
  


_ “Well well, what do we have here? _ ”  __ a voice murmured in his mind.

* * *

Harry watched as Jackson walked towards the Sorting Hat.

The teen moved with an easy confidence, his expression brooding and dark. He could hear Lavender whisper to Parvati, the two girls giggling as they watched the newest student.

They weren’t the only ones whispering.

Jackson was handsome, he was  _ beautiful _ , ethereal, other-worldly. He had this presence that made you want to know him, made you want to be around him. Even from a distance, the other students were gravitating towards him, leaning forward in their seats, their eyes eager and bright.

Harry felt sick.

* * *

_ His smile made you feel like you were the only person in the room, the only person that mattered. It was full of warmth and kindness, open and inviting. _

_ “Harry Potter,” his name sounded beautiful from his lips. _

_ The-Boy-Who-Lived should have known better than to believe a pretty face. _

_ And as he ran from the basilisk, adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins, Harry caught a glimpse of Riddle’s face, his smile. _

_ It was cold and sharp, full of malicious glee. _

_ It suited him more. _

_ Tom Riddle grinned as the other boy ran, “Let’s match the power of Lord Voldemort,” he gloated, “Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter.” _

* * *

“Do you think they’d act like this,” Ron said in a low, disgusted voice, “if they knew?”

Even Hermione was blushing bright red, averting her eyes and trying not to openly stare.

“Voldemort was the same back then,” Harry muttered back bitterly as the memory resurfaced, “and we all know how he turned out,” his attention turned back to the teen on the stool, the Sorting Hat on his head, “sooner or later Jackson will show his true colors---

\--- _ I know it _ .”

* * *

“ _ I don’t usually sort children so old _ ,” the Hat said, “ _ and it has been centuries since I’ve sorted a demigod. _ ”

_ You can’t tell anyone. _

“ _ Don’t worry m’boy, my lips are sealed. Now, shall we take a look? _ ”

Percy could  _ feel _ the Hat rummaging through his head, sifting through the millions of memories in his head, experiences, moments so private they were meant for  _ no one but him _ . It felt invasive, and he  _ hated _ it.

He could feel the Hat gasp, a quiet intake of breath Percy didn’t know was possible for an object.

Then he felt the pity roll through his mind.

  
  


_ There was no doubt which memory they just saw. _

  
  


He didn’t need their pity, it doesn’t help him.

“ _ Oh Perseus _ ,” the Hat said mournfully, “ _ I am so, so sorry _ .”

Then the Sorting Hat opened its wide brim mouth, “Better be”

The entire Great Hall was silent in anticipation.

  
  


“SLYTHERIN”

The table farthest to the left erupted into applause. And as the darkness was lifted from his eyes, he could hear the faint murmur of the Sorting Hat.

“ _ Godspeed Perseus _ .”

* * *

Harry watched as Jackson made his way down to the Slytherin table, looking away the moment he met Malfoy’s smug face.

He was a little relieved, a little worried.

On one hand, he didn’t want Jackson anywhere  _ near _ him and his friends. But at the same time, the Slytherins were eager to rally behind another leader, one who would bring back the glory days where the purebloods were the ones in total power.

It would be easy for Jackson to gain followers, to gain influence.

It would be harder for Harry to keep an eye on him.

_ Who cares? He barely knows anything about the wizarding world. Jackson is like you, thrust into a world he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand--- _

\---Dumbledore was saying something, but Harry wasn’t listening.

His attention was stuck on the pink-clad toad of a woman sitting right behind Dumbledore.

Terror clung to his throat.

“Do you reckon that’s the new Defense teacher?” Ron asked, his eyes drawn to the bright pink as well.

“She---she was at my trial,” Harry’s voice was shaky, “she voted for my expulsion.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, “She’s from the Ministry?” she hissed, “then what is she doing here?”

“Do you think it’s because,” Ron’s voice lowered considerably, “of  _ him _ .”

“I don’t think so,” Harry shook his head, “this feels wrong, everything feels  _ wrong _ .”

“Whatever happens this year, we’ll get through it together,” Hermione said, “you have us Harry, we’re here for you.”

Harry nodded, grateful, and the three of them watched as the pink woman rose up from her seat and cleared her throat.

“Hem hem.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow so this is super late that's my bad I underestimated how busy summer could get. Uhhhh updates might be a bit more sporadic? I'll try to stick to the schedule but it'll probably be once every other week : (
> 
> P.S-I hope this chapter is okay I wasn't sure on how to transition into the school year. If the characters are more self-loathing than usual pls lmk
> 
> P.P.S-I really want to keep making comparisons between Tom Riddle and Percy Jackson but I also don't want to shove that in ur guys' faces lol I hope I'm not projecting too much
> 
> P.P.P.S-Harry Potter had a crush on Tom in CoS and you can't change my mind <3


	9. Chapter 8

* * *

Percy walked towards the Slytherin table, inwardly cringing at the rows of eyes and expectant faces waiting for him. 

A couple of older students waved him over and made space for him.

He obliged, sliding into the empty spot.

The table, he noticed, seemed to be organized by age, with the seventh years sitting the farthest away from the teachers.

The only reason Percy noticed this is because there was a pale blonde boy, who looked no older than Nico, trying to get his attention, with other kids his age surrounding him.

“Ignore him, he's a prick,” a voice said next to him.

Some other seventh years murmured in agreement, keeping their heads low.

Percy turned to the girl next to him, the one who had spoken, eying her curiously. 

The girl held her hand out to shake, “Sophia,” she said, “Sophia Carter.”

“Blood-traitor,” the blonde boy hissed under his breath, the kids around him sneering in agreement.

She ignored him.

Percy just shook her hand, feeling the weight of all the stares against his back, “I’m sorry what?”

Sophia sighed, “That prick over there is Draco Malfoy,” she said in a low voice, “his father is a big deal, has a lot of influence in the Ministry. He’s still hung up on the whole blood supremacy thing,” she rolled her eyes, “gives the dumber ones the confidence to say whatever they want, arseholes the lot of them. ”

“But we can’t say anything,” another teen chimes in, “cause, y’know,” he shrugged, “Slytherin solidarity. I still think it’s stupid.”

“Don’t forget about Lucius Malfoy,” Sophia said sarcastically, “the man who could literally blacklist you before your career even starts just for pissing off his son.”

“So? And letting Malfoy say whatever the hell he wants is better? Oh sure, why don’t we make the rest of the school hate us _more_.”

The two continued bickering, leaving Percy alone, terribly confused and a little irritated.

Other students kept glancing at him, then whispering to each other. It reminded him of when he first got claimed as the son of Posiedon, the treatment was exactly the same, and just as frustrating as he remembered.

_Being the new kid sucked._

Percy picked an interesting spot on the table and just focused on it, drowning out the noise around him, trying to calm down as he was sandwiched between two other students, reassuring himself that everything was _fine_.

He didn’t see the pink monstrosity interrupt the headmaster.

He didn’t hear her speech on education and “getting along.”

He missed the implications of Ministry intervention.

And when the foreboding speech was over and food appeared on the table, Percy silently picked the food he wanted and wished he was back home.

Percy was lost in his thoughts until the blonde kid, Malfoy, firmly tapped him on the shoulder and stuck out his hand to shake, “The name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” he said, his eyes darting to the Gryffindor table and back again, the rest of his face unbearably smug.

The demigod glanced at Sophia, who just shrugged helplessly. Percy turned back to the kid and shook his hand, “Uh, Percy Jackson.”

Malfoy looked curious, “I’ve never heard of the name Jackson,” he said, “is that a big pureblood name in the States?”

“No?”

Now he looked confused, “But, you _are_ pureblood, right?”

Percy shook his head _no_ , “Half-blood.”

Malfoy drew his hand away as if burned, his face scrunching up in disgust. He opened his mouth as if to say something, probably offensive, but then closed it, turning around and stomping back to his seat. He stuck his nose up in the air and turned to the other kids surrounding him, whispering something and shooting dirty glances at Percy.

Pretty soon, most of Malfoy’s posse were now less enthused to be near the demigod, shooting hostile looks instead of ones of adoration and curiosity.

“He won’t do anything to you while we’re in public,” another seventh-year said, not looking up from his meal, “but be careful once we’re in our common room, that’s when he gets nasty.”

“Do you just,” Percy was at a loss for words, “ _let_ him do whatever he wants? No consequences ever?”

“He’s Snape’s favorite, and the only reason he’s Snape’s favorite is because of his father,” Sophia shook her head, “it’s fine though, he’s really all bark and no bite, just ignore him and you’ll be okay.”

Percy just nodded, he’s dealt with enough bullies before, they didn’t really bother him anymore. He was just surprised that Malfoy was allowed to do whatever because the rest of the students were wary of speaking against him lest he tell his father.

Well actually no he wasn’t that surprised, after all, parentage was important to demigods. It was just weird seeing a kid have no respect for the upperclassmen, the kids back home wouldn’t have survived past the first day if they showed any disrespect.

Sophia told him about blood purity, the influential pureblood families that controlled nearly everything, and the blood prejudice he’ll probably experience. 

“They’re much harsher against muggle-borns,” she said as they walked towards the Slytherin common room, “they developed the idea that muggles are less because they don’t have magic, and that muggle-borns are abominations.”

“It’s easier to dehumanize them if you keep referring to them like that,” Percy replied distractedly, standing in front of a plain stone wall in the dungeons, “the word ‘muggle’ sounds like a disease, why don’t you just call them people?”

Sophia didn’t have an answer.

* * *

The Slytherin common room, in all its glory, was a strange mixture of pretentious elegance and a quiet serenity. It had a cool dark atmosphere with expensive arm chairs and decor surrounding a fireplace. Torches lined the walls, illuminating the common room in almost a haunting way, sputtering an emerald green flame that closely resembled Greek fire. Despite the seemingly poor lighting, Percy was able to see everything clearly, and students were already sitting by the fire and pulling out their books, impervious to the lack of sunlight in the room.

Portraits of famous Slytherins lined the wall, framed with various precious metals. Salazar Slytherin himself was placed over the fireplace, an old man with a beard who looked exactly how someone with the name Salazar Slytherin would look.

One full side of the wall was just glass, showing the dark abyss of the Great Lake. Percy felt calmer being so close to the water, and if he just closed his eyes he could imagine he was standing in his cabin. But every time he saw the fancy trimmings and the intricate carvings in the stone walls he was reminded of just how far he was from home.

That didn’t mean Percy hated the common room. Actually he thought it was pretty nice. The atmosphere was very relaxing and calm, clearly the place to unwind after a hard day. Students were already heading towards the chairs, sitting together and just enjoying each other’s company.

It was peaceful.

Until Malfoy ruined it.

“I guess Slytherin is just letting in anyone these days,” he said to his friend, loudly enough for Percy to hear, “what happened to the good old days where only purebloods were allowed in?” he scoffed, “back when our House actually had _standards_. Just wait until my father hears about this.”

Sophia coughed into her hand, clearly smothering a laugh, “C'mon,” she said, “I’ll show you where your dorms are.”

She led him to the area where the seventh-years hung out, pointing to a staircase that ended with a wooden door. On the door there was a silver plaque that read _7th Year Boy’s Dormitory_.

Well, in reality the words were a little more scrambled, but they were easy enough to decipher. 

“Thanks for your help,” he said, his lips quirking up into a smile, “you didn’t have to.”

Sophia’s cheeks turned bright red, “Now you owe me Jackson,” she said, covering her embarrassment with a laugh, “Sometimes I like to think Dumbledore introduces bizarre people to us on purpose, so I wanted to see what the newest one would be like. I gotta say, you’re probably the most normal thing to happen at Hogwarts since the Chamber of Secrets opened.”

“Thank you?”

She beamed, “You’re welcome! Just let me know if you have any questions, I’m easy to find,” she tapped her badge, a shiny silver thing with an engraved _P_ on it, “I’ll see you around.”

Percy waved her goodbye, watching her walk up to a group of girls, all of them looking at her with a mixture of envy and admiration as she talked.

He walked up the stairs, heading into the room he would be calling his for the next 9 months.

His dorms were as pretentiously styled and decorated as the common room. Emerald green four poster beds were placed circularly around an ornate rug, their trunks sitting at the foot of the bed. Percy identified his own trunk quickly enough, letting his fingers trail along his new home. 

He traced the dark wooden carvings and inspected the curtains that allowed him a little privacy. His eyes widened as he flopped down on the mattress, nearly sinking in the cloud disguised as a bed.

_Holy shit this is so soft._

As someone who had grown up worrying about money, for once in his life Percy was almost grateful his house was full of rich kids who would accept nothing less than the absolute _best_.

It meant he could reap all the benefits

Percy enjoyed the blissful silence for a few moments, fully relaxing for the first time in months. He registered the other boys walking in the dorms, their steps wary and cautious. Eventually everything fell quiet, he could practically sense the awkward anticipation in the air.

The other boys didn’t know what to do with him, how to handle him. A new kid, a _half-blood_ from the States.

Percy grew tired of waiting for them to speak.

He sat up from his bed and met the expectant faces of the four boys. The demigod grinned, allowing some of his wolf stare to bleed through, _just_ in case they thought they could mess with him, “Hello,” he said pleasantly, “can I help you?”

One of them, a heavily built teen who almost reminded Percy of Gabe with the way he sneered at the demigod, stepped forward. The others, on the other hand, took a step back, essentially shielding themselves from him.

Percy never liked people who reminded him of that pathetic excuse for a human.

“Yeah,” the burly teen said menacingly, “you can.”

He took another threatening step towards Percy, intentionally looming over the demigod, “We just wanna make sure a half-blood like you doesn’t get any ideas. Your place is below _us_. Got it?”

Mortals didn’t scare him anymore. 

And what were wizards except mortals with a god-complex?

Percy’s lack of response must have angered the other boy. Perhaps he had deep rooted insecurities and the demigod’s smile was too insulting for him. 

Whatever the case, the boy swung at him, and everything seemed to slow down.

He had been practicing all summer, honing and fine-tuning his powers. Even now he was aware of every drop of water in the air, every drop of moisture in their body. The difference between now and three months ago was that now, he could tap into their bloodstream, _control them_.

And that was what he did.

The teen’s fist stopped inches from Percy’s face. The demigod laughed out loud, inwardly giddy that it worked. 

Everyone else, however, was terrified.

Percy stood up, circling around the frozen teen, “Did you seriously just try to punch me?” he laughed disbelievingly, “for someone so adamant on blood purity you sure like to fight like a mortal---sorry---muggle.”

He curled his hand into a fist, watching the teen stiffen under the new pressure, then buckle under it, collapsing onto his knees, pleading the entire time. 

Percy couldn’t hear him, too caught up in his success to care, “I didn’t come here to make friends,” he told them, “but I didn’t come here to make enemies either. It didn’t have to be like this, but _you_ approached me, _you_ threw the first punch.”

“Yes, yes,” the teen sobbed, his head at Percy’s feet, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The demigod cocked his head to the side, observing the blubbering mess on the floor. He wasn’t even doing anything, just holding him there, but apparently that was enough.

_Subdue the biggest, the strongest,_ his mind began to whisper, _and they will leave you alone. Drive home the message. Make him regret ever meeting you._

“Jackson!” one of the boys, Adrian Pucey, called out sharply, “that’s enough. Montague’s a little thick, but he’s harmless. Let him go.”

_Harmless_ , Percy thought indignantly, “He tried to punch me.”

Pucey nodded curtly, “Tried to, but he couldn’t. He can’t touch you, he’s harmless. It was a mistake to approach you, he won’t do it again.”

“Never again,” Montague repeated shakily, “I’m sorry.”

Percy snapped back into focus, and took a deep shuddering breath. Realizing what he had done, he quickly released him, watching as Montague stifled a scream as he scrambled backwards, getting as far away from the demigod as possible. Pucey caught him, and quickly ushered him away, the rest of the boys shooting Percy fearful glances, their steps almost frantic as they headed out the door.

Before he left, Pucey looked back, his cold expression melting into one of fearful respect.

And then Percy was alone.

* * *

The rush of satisfaction left him, the euphoria of success faded, and the horror began to set in.

_Oh gods what had he done?_

It wasn’t supposed to get that far. He didn’t mean to make Montague practically kneeling at his feet. That wasn’t him, that wasn’t him at all.

_Admit you liked it_ , his mind said, _the power, the feeling of control. No one will ever touch you like_ **_he_ ** _did again._

If it wasn't for Pucey, what would he have done?

Boiled his blood? Make him choke on his own fluids?

Mortals were so fragile compared to goddesses, Percy could’ve killed him.

He had thought… he thought he had it under control by now, he thought this wouldn’t _happen_ anymore.

Was he always going to be like this?

_Broken?_

_Uncontrollable?_

_Dangerous?_

* * *

Draco Malfoy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked down the stairs. The first night at Hogwarts was always the hardest, being so far away from home.

Although, with the Dark Lord back, home wasn’t very _safe_ anymore.

Still, he would always find comfort in the Slytherin common room, its atmosphere calming and peaceful.

Well, it should have been, if it weren’t for the mass of students panicking in front of the glass wall. 

Draco pushed his way through the crowd, bumping into Carter on his way in.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, growing more nervous at the way the usually calm prefect was almost in full blown panic.

“I already alerted Professor Snape,” she said urgently, “but we need to get everyone out of the common rooms _now_.”

His confusion was only amplified, but Draco did as he was told, ushering his housemates out as quickly as possible.

As he led a crying first year through the exit, he snuck a glance back. All the color drained from his face as he looked on in horror.

The glass wall, the only thing separating them from the bottomless Black Lake, had a large crack right in the center, stretched and interlaced like a spider web.

And the merpeople who rarely showed themselves to the students were scratching frantically at the glass, their movements crazed and their expressions half-wild. If it weren’t for the soundproofed glass, Draco imagined they’d be screaming.

What caused this? How did this happen?

What were they going to do?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finding Slytherin 7th year canon characters is hard : (


	10. Chapter 9

* * *

Dumbledore never liked visiting the Slytherin common room.

On the rare occasions he did, he always left with a bad feeling in his gut, a chill creeping down his spine. The common room itself seemed to radiate hostility, it was cold and dark, apathetic to its visitors. 

He could never understand how the children lived like this.

Even now as he stepped within its walls, the weak torches casting shadows across the area, Dumbledore wanted to leave.

How could its slimy, moss covered walls compare to the clean bricks of the Gryffindor common room? How could its chilling, hostile atmosphere compare to Gryffindor’s cozy and welcoming one?

It was no surprise Slytherins turned out the way they did, spending seven years in this place was enough to turn anyone dark.

But he had a duty as Headmaster, and the urgency in which Severus called him piqued his curiosity. The professor sounded almost afraid, a tone Dumbledore hadn’t heard since he was begging at his feet, pleading for him to spare Lily’s life.

The moment he stepped inside, his heart almost stopped.

A crack in the glass? Was that even possible? 

The glass, like the rest of the room, had been heavily enchanted by Salazar Slytherin himself, and, despite the wizard’s other shortcomings, Slytherin was a powerful wizard who no doubt used dark, powerful spells to protect his space.

But that seemed to be only half of the problem.

“The merpeople began to claw at the glass in the morning,” Severus reported, “but it is unclear whether they caused the crack or not.”

They were gone, but Dumbledore had seen Severus’s memories before coming. It was a terrifying sight, to see the merpeople with their fangs bared as they clawed at the glass, their mouths open in an ear-shattering wail.

“I doubt it,” Dumbledore mused, drifting closer to inspect the break, “Slytherin must have planned for hostile interactions.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Severus asked dryly, masking his own fear, “my students are frightened, they do not wish to drown while they sleep.”

Dumbledore drew his wand, the Elder Wand, from his robe. The room was built with ancient magic, he didn’t know if it would even respond to his own power. But the Elder Wand was built with old magic as well, perhaps it would work.

He gently pressed the tip of the wand at one point of the fracture, channeling his magic along with the wand’s, chanting an old spell as he traced the broken lines and cracks. It would take more than a simple _oculus reparo_ to fix this.

To his relief, the glass began to mend itself, slowly and surely until it was as pristine as ever.

“Do you have any idea what caused it?” Dumbledore asked.

Severus hesitated, what his students got up to were no one else’s business but his own, but some of the seventh-year boys reported something troubling last night, “One of my students… reported something last night. It was an incident involving Jackson.”

This caught the headmaster’s attention, “What happened.”

“A couple of them decided to assert their authority over him,” Severus said, ignoring Dumbledore’s disapproving gaze, “one tried to hit him. He failed.”

The potions master took a deep breath, “The boy claims Imperius, but the other witnesses state that Jackson wasn’t using a wand, and that the boy was aware of his movements the entire time.”

“I thought he would have had control over his accidental magic by now,” Dumbledore mused, a troubled expression crossing his face, “unless he did it on purpose.”

_A half-blood upstart in Slytherin challenging the status quo._

“Sir?”

“Forgive me Severus, I am an old man stuck in the past it would seem,” he forced a chuckle, “Percy’s response is a bit troubling, but he does have powerful ancestors, his magic is stronger than most.”

“Do you think,” Severus said slowly, “that the crack in the wall was caused by him?”

“I think it was a response. After all, Percy is Slytherin’s descendant, the enchantments no doubt recognized him as their own.”

_And Slytherins are so fiercely protective of what they own._

“I hope you know what you are doing with that boy,” Snape drawled, “I hope you know not to underestimate him, regardless of his muggle upbringing.”

“Of course Severus,” he said, the two of them gazing into the dark waters of the Black Lake, “of course.”

* * *

Percy Jackson woke up terrified.

Even then the memory of his dream was beginning to fade, but he could still feel the anxiety in his chest, the terror in his throat. The feeling wouldn’t go away even as he took deep breaths, trying desperately to slow his heart rate. 

It seemed the events that transpired last night caused some old memories, old feelings, to resurface. He wished it hadn’t.

_Recovery isn’t linear_ , he reminded himself, _you are going to have bad days_.

Sitting up from his bed, Percy looked around the room, dully noticing the empty beds surrounding him. An anxious thought crept into his mind. _Did he wake up late?_

Panic began to set in as he scrambled off his bed, speeding to the bathroom and trying to make himself look a little presentable. His hair was a lost cause per usual, but he did his best to rub the bleariness out of his eyes. Quickly throwing on his uniform, Percy leapt down the stairs, skidding to a halt when he saw a giant fucking crack in the glass, and the merpeople frantically clawing at it.

The rest of the common room was just as empty, no doubt the students evacuated in a hurry.

Why didn’t they wake him up?

_You know why_ , his mind said.

Percy ignored it.

“What’s going on?” he asked them.

“ _My lord_ ,” the mermaids cried, “ _we sensed your distress. We are here to help, where is the danger? Where is the threat?_ ”

Oh fuck that was going to be a problem.

“I’m not in any danger,” he assured them, “it was just a bad dream, those happen a lot.”

The merpeople looked at each other, then back at him, “ _No danger?_ ” the leader asked hesitantly.

Percy smiled and shook his head, “No danger, but thank you.”

They bowed, “ _We are honored to serve in any way we can_ ,” they said, bowing once more than swimming away, disappearing into the watery depths.

Percy longed to join them, but he heard a different voice calling him, an older one.

“ _So, you are my latest heir._ ”

The demigod turned and looked at the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, who was looking at him curiously. Percy could hear the words coming out of Slytherin’s mouth, but they sounded different, like they were speaking to his mind.

“ _Hello_?” the sound that came out of his mouth was not natural. Hissing was not natural. Having the hissing actually turn into words in his mind?

What the fuck was his life anymore. 

Slytherin looked unimpressed at what he saw, and Percy couldn’t find it within himself to be offended. He did not come here to be the perfect descendant to a long dead guy. That would be dumb. 

“ _You caused the crack in the wall_ ,” it was more of a statement than an accusation. 

Percy’s first reaction was shock. 

_He did that?_

But… was it really so surprising?

“ _It takes powerful magic to break my enchantments,_ ” Slytherin mused, “ _at least you aren’t a disappointment._ ”

“ _How am I speaking to you?_ ” Percy asked. 

“ _Parseltongue boy_ ,” the portrait replied disdainfully, “ _the language of snakes._ ”

“ _There is something ancient about you my heir, something more than magic can provide,_ ” Slytherin’s gaze turned sharp and dissecting, “ _perhaps my legacy is finally left in capable hands._ ”

Percy and the portrait both abruptly turned towards the sound of voices, the unmistakable drawl of Snape and the deceptively calm voice of Dumbledore, the last person Percy wanted to see.

“ _They will suspect you anyways_ ,” Slytherin smiled thinly, “ _but it is always best to never get caught red-handed._ ”

The stone wall next to the fireplace began to move, the sliding stones grating on Percy’s ears. Soon enough, a secret passageway opened up, lined with haunting green torches. He was hesitant to walk through the tunnel without knowing where it led him, the Labyrinth made sure of that.

As if the portrait could read his thoughts, Slytherin answered his unspoken question, “ _It will lead you to the Great Hall_ ,” he said with a bemused smile, “ _and make sure to visit your old ancestor from time to time, it gets boring sitting up here alone._ ”

Percy nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Then with one last glance to the empty common room, he headed towards the passage, wincing as the entrance slid shut.

* * *

The walk was a lot shorter than he expected it to be, though Percy half-suspected magic was involved. As he entered the Great Hall, he found the Slytherin table packed with students while it seemed the other houses were just making their way down for breakfast. 

Percy quickly found Sophia among the other seventh years and made his way over there, silently ignoring the way his roommates quickly made space for him, avoiding eye contact the entire time.

“Hey Jackson!” Sophia said brightly, “I didn’t see you earlier. Where were you?”

“I overslept,” he shrugged, “there’s a huge crack in the wall by the way. Have you seen it?”

Sophia’s chipper expression melted into one of worry, “You.. didn’t evacuate with us?”

Percy feigned ignorance, “Was I supposed to?”

The witch whipped around and glared at Adrian Pucey, who was watching the whole exchange from behind a cup of tea, “Adrian!” she nearly shrieked, “I _told_ you to get everyone out of your dorms, that _includes_ Jackson!”

“We tried waking him up,” Pucey replied evenly, “he didn’t, so we left him there.”

“What if the glass shattered completely? Jackson could have _died_.”

Pucey rolled his eyes, “Well it didn’t and he’s alive, so drop it.”

Sophie opened her mouth to scold him more, but Professor Snape walked up to them, their class schedules in his hands. He briskly handed the pieces of parchment to various students, only stopping fully when he got to Percy, who stared back with a raised eyebrow.

“The headmaster wishes to see you,” Snape said, handing Percy his schedule, “before the end of today preferably,” he lowered his voice, “he would like to discuss your… _inappropriate behavior_ from last night.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Percy behind holding a stupid piece of paper.

Sophia held out her hands expectantly, and both Percy and Pucey seamlessly handed their schedules to her, “I don’t have that many classes with you Jackson,” she mused, quickly comparing the two, “Ooh _ouch_ , Defense with the Gryffindors first thing in the morning?” she looked at Pucey’s schedule, “Merlin you too. Oh wait a second, you two actually have a lot of classes together,” the two boys exchanged loathing looks, “This is perfect! Adrian, you can show him where his classes are, y’know, to make up for the fact that you left him alone to drown.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit,” Pucey said dryly, taking his schedule back, “but fine.”

The Slytherin prefect looked at Percy, who just shrugged, “Ok with me.”

She beamed, “Oh this is wonderful,” she began packing her things, stuffing snacks into her book bag, “I’ll see you guys later yeah? Tell me how Defense goes!”

Then she was gone, lost among the sea of students leaving the Great Hall.

Adrian let out an annoyed sigh, quietly standing up too, “We better get going,” he said, “the classroom is pretty far.”

Percy followed the other boy wordlessly, constantly scanning the area for any potential threats. He wouldn’t put it past Pucey to try and get revenge, well maybe not him specifically, but his other roommates certainly looked stupid enough to try.

“You don’t have to be so tense Jackson,” Pucey commented, breaking the silence between them, “I’m not going to do anything. It’d be foolish to try.”

Percy didn’t respond immediately, he didn’t want to.

“Look,” Pucey sighed, “it was dumb of us to confront you last night. Montague had these ideas and we just went along with it. But you didn’t have to do the thing you did either,” he paused, then asked curiously, “how did you do it?”

“It was an accident,” Percy lied, “it’s overwhelming being in a new country, my magic reacted accordingly.”

Pucey looked like he didn’t believe him, but Percy couldn’t really blame him. After all, they both remembered the way Percy acted, it couldn’t have been a product of stress.

It was a poor excuse, a terrible lie, and they both knew it.

* * *

But Slytherins respected secrets, and if Jackson wanted to keep that one close to his chest, it was fine by Adrian.

Still, he was curious about the new kid, and he couldn’t find out Jackson’s secrets by holding him at arm's length so he held out his hand to shake, “Truce Jackson?”

Jackson titled his head to the side, observing the hand extending towards him. His expression was so similar to the one he wore last night that Adrian could feel his heart began to pound faster in fear. 

After what had seemed like forever, Jackson shook his hand, and his intimidating countenance shifted into a smile, “Percy.”

The wizard hid his relief through a controlled nod, and the barest hint of a smile, “Well Percy,” he stepped to the side, revealing the doorway to the Defense classroom, “shall we?”

* * *

Adrian wasn’t quite a friend, Percy still didn’t trust him, but it was useful to have someone on his side, someone who _knew_ what he could do if they ever crossed him.

All paranoia aside, walking inside the classroom with him, just two teenage boys sharing a class together, was the semblance of normalcy Percy was almost desperate for.

Then he looked up from his desk and was met with a sickly sweet smile from a toad-like woman dressed head-to-toe in obnoxious pink.

_It can’t be worse than Ms. Dodds_ , Percy reminded himself, _at least this one won’t try to kill you._

“Good morning class,” she said in a simpering, high-pitched voice.

A few students grumbled a reply and she quickly frowned, “No that won’t do, say it with me now ‘ _Good morning_ Professor Umbridge.’”

The seventh years echoed back the statement mockingly, their pitch more alike to kindergarteners than 17 year olds.

Umbridge didn’t seem insulted.

Percy could hear Adrian’s sigh, he didn’t blame the other teen, he himself already felt bored.

“I hear we have a new Hogwarts student joining us for the first time,” Umbridge said in that disgustingly pitchy voice, “Mr. Jackson, would you like to introduce yourself to the class?”

The demigod rescinds his previous statement.

  
  


He would take Ms. Dodds over this any day.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's August already and I haven't even started my summer homework yet ahahahaaahaha FUCK


	11. Chapter 10

* * *

Harry Potter woke up dreading the first day of school.

He was never really enthusiastic about learning on good days, but today just amplified that by ten.

He just… felt too drained to do anything, he just wanted to crawl back in his bed and sleep forever. The only good thing about his life at the moment was that he finally stopped having nightmares about the graveyard, for now. 

What a sad life he lived.

To make things worse, Seamus didn’t believe him about Voldemort, and Ron was quick to jump to his defense. He almost couldn’t bring himself to care, and yet Harry felt a white hot rage curl in his gut. 

How could they not believe him? Did they not see Cedric’s dead body? Did he really undergo a traumatizing experience that left him with nightmares for  _ months _ only for his roommate to bloody question him? His sanity?

Not to mention that there was a walking reminder of Voldemort’s existence roaming around the school, interacting with unsuspecting students.

So yeah, Harry wasn’t excited for school.

He dragged himself to the Great Hall for breakfast, quietly ignoring his friends’ inquiring glances, still upset at them for keeping the Order a secret from him. Conceptually Harry understood why they couldn’t tell him, but all he could think about was that they  _ knew _ what it was like living with the Dursleys. They knew,  _ Dumbledore _ knew, and yet they still left him there when he could have been spending the summer with Sirius.

“Are you alright Harry?” Hermione finally asked after moments of awkward silence.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly, quickly shoving food in his mouth and standing up, “I’m going to class.”

“Oh! I’ll come with you,” Ron said, but Harry shook his head.

“I’d like some time alone, if that’s alright.”

Ron faltered, “Yeah sure mate, we’ll see you in class?”

Harry nodded and quickly exited the Great Hall, ignoring the whispered accusations and mocking sneers.

He didn’t really have a destination in mind as he wandered through the halls, class started in about an hour anyways. 

Walking seemed to help clear his head, and every once in a while he was reminded of how beautiful Hogwarts was. Harry could feel the magic within the halls, ingrained in every brick and stone, and the steady rhythm of magic, ebbing and flowing like the ocean, steadied his mind.

Until he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into someone. Being starved for most of his life guaranteed that he would always be more underweight and lighter than your average wizard, but the person he bumped into didn’t even flinch, didn’t even move, much to his chagrin. 

Harry was beginning to think he ran into Crabbe or Goyle, until a sun-kissed hand reached out in front of him, the inside of their sleeve a brilliant emerald green. He looked up and was met with the amused face of Percy Jackson. Adrian Pucey stood a little bit behind Jackson, his face betraying no emotion.

“You okay?” Jackson asked, his accent jarring but weirdly pleasant to listen to, “I didn’t think you were actually going to run into me, I should’ve moved.”

Harry nodded curtly and mumbled his own apology, taking Jackson’s hand and trying not to notice how calloused they were, and how  _ striking _ his eyes were. He often received comments about the color of his own eyes, a bold green full of life, just like his mother’s, but Jackson’s were like the ocean, a beautiful sea green that seemed to swirl and shift constantly.

It was such a stark contrast to a scarlet pair of eyes Harry knew, and if he solely focused on the difference, he could almost forget who he was talking to.

“Percy Jackson,” the older teen introduced himself, “sorry our first meeting had to go this way.”

“Harry Potter,” he replied, inwardly cringing as he saw recognition enter Jackson’s face.

But instead of the usual malice he might have expected from Malfoy, Jackson just turned to Pucey, his voice a lot colder than before, “Could you give us a minute?”

It wasn’t a question.

Pucey simply nodded and walked away. Jackson snapped his fingers, a clear,  _ sharp _ sound, and reality seemed to bend around them.

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but class was starting soon, and the halls were beginning to become more and more crowded, and yet the moment Jackson snapped his fingers, all the students seemed to bend around them, putting enough space between the pair that Harry  _ knew _ it was magic.

He’s never heard of a spell like that. Jackson wasn’t  _ supposed _ to know spells like that. 

Where did he learn it from?

“So,” the Slytherin said casually, as if he hadn’t just performed extremely complicated magic, “Harry Potter.”

“Yes?” Harry said, resting his hand on his wand.

“Sorry,” Jackson said sheepishly, running his hand through his already messy hair. Hair, Harry noted enviously, that seemed to fall perfectly styled on the teen’s face. “I guess you know---”

“Yes,” Harry interrupted, “I do.”

“Listen man, I get it. You have every right to hate me,” his words were not what he was expecting, “I don’t blame you either, but I’m not looking for trouble, especially now, so I will stay in my lane and you stay in yours, we don’t have to interact at all this school year, if you want, at least until this Voldemort business is over. Sound cool?”

“You, you said his name,” Harry said dumbly, the only thing his brain was able to register.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, “Am I not supposed to?”

“Most people are afraid to,” he explained, momentarily forgetting that he’s supposed to hate this guy, “they call him You-Know-Who and stuff.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Jackson said, rolling his eyes, “yeah names have power, but it’s not like he’s a  _ god _ or anything.”

Harry was too surprised to say anything, even as Pucey approached them, even as Jackson’s magic circle seemed to disappear, and the students began to crowd around them once more. 

“See you around Harry,” Jackson said with a crooked smile and a salute, “or not.”

Then the pair disappeared among the crowd.

Harry just stood there, like an idiot, too flabbergasted to say anything. Then the whispers started up again and he figured it was probably best for him to head to class.

Transfiguration first thing in the morning?

At least it wasn’t Potions.

* * *

“So,” Pucey tried to ask casually, “what were you and Potter talking about?”

Percy smiled thinly, “Nothing you need to know.”

* * *

The day carried on similarly. After every class Harry would walk with his friends to the next one, constantly glancing around to see if Jackson was there. 

It worried Ron and Hermione, to see their friend acting like a paranoid freak, but they didn’t really know how to explain their feelings to him, so they didn’t say anything.

But Harry knew he was acting weird, they didn’t have to keep tiptoeing around him.

Jackson hadn’t known about the wizarding world until now, so it was reasonable that he would act like a normal guy, but it clashed so horribly with the image Harry painted in his mind that he didn’t know what to think anymore. 

But… the way he talked to Pucey, the respect he saw in the other Slytherin’s eyes, that couldn’t be a coincidence. Slytherins were known blood purists, and they didn’t know Jackson’s true background, only that he’s some transfer from America. 

So what did he do to gain their respect?

_ It must have been something dark _ , Harry reasoned to himself,  _ Slytherins respond to displays of power. _

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, “Harry,” she said carefully, “we’re worried about you.”

“I know,” his shoulders slumped, “it’s just stressful, having Jackson here.”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong,” she pointed out logically, “and it’s only the first day.”

“Yeah,” Ron chimed in, “and the moment he does anything suspicious, we’ll be right there to catch him.”

His fears assuaged for the moment, grateful that his friends would be there for him, Harry let himself relax. 

And he looked forward to the rest of the day.

* * *

The trio was chilling by the fireplace in their common room, already overwhelmed from the amount of homework their teachers assigned.

_ It’s to prepare you for your OWLs _ , they said,  _ it’s for your own good _ , they said _. _

Harry was eager for any kind of distraction, so when the twins popped into the common room, he and Ron quickly beckoned them over any kind of entertainment. 

“Hiya Harry, Ronnikins, what can we do for ya today?” Fred asked, George grinning next to him.

“You had Defense today right?” Harry asked, “what’s the new teacher like?”

The twins looked at each other, then back at them, “Oh yeah,” George began---

“---she’s a real character,” Fred finished, “oodles and oodles of personality.”

“I didn’t know being a buzzkill, bigoted bootlicker counts as a personality trait,” George added, “but that new kid sure made things sorta interesting.”

That caught Harry’s attention, “New kid?” his curiosity skyrocketed, “you mean Percy Jackson?”

Fred laughed, “Harry, I think he’s a little too old for you. Try dating kids your own age,” his eyes gained a mischievous twinkle, “but I can put a good word in for you, if you’d like.”

“Ugh gross,” Ron’s face scrunched up in disgust, “don’t you know he’s You-Know-Who’s grandson?”

Both twins froze, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Harry said glumly, “Padfoot told me.”

“Y’know,” Fred said, mostly to himself, “that explains a few things.”

“Like what?”

* * *

Fred was sort of excited for Defense class. He had heard from some former seventh years that it was the year they really started to learn how to duel. 

He just hoped that the new teacher wouldn’t be someone like Quirrell, or worse, Lockhart.

But he wasn’t sure how appealing a Ministry worker would be either.

Still, sharing a class with the Slytherins was bound to make things interesting. Plus he heard from Lee that the new kid (Jackson?) was going to be there.

Quickly finding a seat next to his friends, Fred watched Jackson walk in with Pucey, inwardly grinning once the three of them realized the only free seats were near the front.

The moment Professor Umbridge introduced herself it became very apparent to the whole class that they weren’t going to learn any dueling magic this year. Fred himself wasn’t interested in spending the entire time reading, but the more academic driven teens were worried about NEWTs.

“As long as you read and understand the material, I’m sure you will all perform well in a controlled environment,” Umbridge said sweetly.

To which Jackson laughed.

_ Loudly _

Fred watched in fascination as Umbridge turned an ugly shade of red, “Is there a problem Mr.?”

“Jackson,” the teen answered smoothly, “and no, I don’t have a problem.”

“The culture might be a little  _ different _ than where you are from Mr. Jackson, but here we  _ respect _ our elders.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you in case you’re wondering,” everyone knew that was a lie, but Jackson didn’t even look fazed, “but I never had much respect for authority figures anyways,” he muttered under his breath.

Umbridge turned a shade darker, but she still managed to paste that sickly sweet smile on her face, “Mr. Jackson,” she said patronizingly, “I understand being raised by  _ muggles _ means your manners are a little lacking, but you are among your  _ proper _ kind, act like it.”

Some of the muggleborns in the class were shocked and infuriated at the blatant bigotry, but the rest of the class watched in anticipation for Jackson’s response.

Pucey whispered something to the teen, probably along the lines of, “ _ For the love of Merlin don’t do anything stupid. _ ”

Jackson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The moment he opened his eyes Umbridge took a step back, as if she wasn’t prepared for the cold glare emanating from a 17 year old. 

A chill passed through the room, and Fred tried not to let his fear show.

Who knew Americans could be so scary?

“I,” his voice was quiet, a calm before the storm, “ _ really _ wish you hadn’t said that.”

The teen stood up abruptly from his seat, much to Pucey’s horror, and walked over to the professor.

Umbridge quickly took a step back, “Detention!” she snapped, letting her fear turn into anger.

Everyone could see the way Jackson towered over Umbridge, and he used his height to his advantage. And  _ everyone _ could see his chilly smile, one that certainly promised retribution to those who wronged him.

“Sure,” his shrug was languid, threatening in its nonchalance, “we can talk later.”

Then he just left.

  
  


* * *

“He’s a lot mellower than I would expect from a descendant of You-Know-Who,” Fred commented offhandedly, “but, somehow, that explanation makes a lot more sense than ‘all Americans are just Like That’ y’know?”

George mockingly gasped, “Do you think he’s gonna kill her in detention?”

“Ugh Merlin I hope so. Would bloody do us all a favor.”

The trio exchanged confused looks, “You’re,” Hermione said slowly, “you’re not worried?”

“Um---”

“---well”

“I’m more surprised Voldemort got laid honestly,” Fred confessed.

George nodded solemnly, “It’s a very difficult thing to conceptualize.”

“Ew why did you have to phrase it like that?” Ron asked, thoroughly grossed out and traumatized.

Both of the twins just shrugged and told them that they’ll understand when they’re older, which made no sense at all, and also just felt like an excuse to get out of the conversation, as they quickly said goodbye and disappeared into their dorms.

But the conversation was enlightening, in some ways.

Harry realized that while Voldemort was a very real threat to  _ him _ , to the other students, he was a far away boogey-man, a monster you hear about in the stories. Maybe some had been personally affected by him, but to others, he’s just a wizard in the history books.

Instead they had to worry about a bad Defense teacher working for the government. Very real, tangible things that are right in front of them.

Harry trusts Fred and George, he knows they’ve got his back, but it still stung that they were so nonchalant about Jackson. He thought they would’ve understood.

Maybe he was just being irrational? Maybe Jackson’s just a regular kid who got swept up in the wizarding world later in his life because of something no one understands.

But one thing is for sure.

Harry needs to talk to Percy Jackson again.

  
  


And soon.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a huge fan of this chapter cause I feel like the Umbridge scene was so underwhelming and just the chapter in general but there's like no way I could think of to make Percy be a bamf without giving himself away y'know? Idk but I definitely foresee the detention scene being oodles more interesting once I actually write it.
> 
> Anyways a few PSA's:
> 
> 1\. Updates are going to become more sporadic, but when I update it will always be on a Sunday. I've started my junior year in hs and it's a lot more work than I anticipated so...but this is not abandoned I'm still alive just tired
> 
> 2\. I'm so thankful for all the support and comments I never thought that people would actually like this lmao I wrote it more for me but I'm so glad you guys enjoy it too. I love seeing your suggestions but just a heads up I won't be able to fit in all of them into my story so I encourage you to write your own and do whatever you want with it :)
> 
> <3


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @fern_illustrations for the absolutely AMAZING fanart please go check out her instagram if you can <333
> 
> Also very IMPORTANT news at the end so please read!!!

* * *

"I can’t believe you got detention on your first day of school!”

“That’s what I told him,” Adrian said dryly.

“And with Umbridge too?! Merlin Percy do you have any sense of self-preservation?”

Much to Sophia’s frustration, the other teen just stared at her indifferently, but his smile told her that he was amused by her scolding. 

_No one should be that pretty_ , she thought angrily as her heart jumped at the sight, _especially some transfer from the States_.

  
  


“I didn’t know you cared so much Sophia,” he grinned, “besides, it’s not like she can actually _do_ anything to me.”

His nonchalance and laid-back attitude infuriated her so much she was at loss for words, “Y-you!” she sputtered, quickly turning towards Adrian, “ _why_ didn’t you stop him!”

The other Slytherin just raised his hands in mock surrender, “It’s not like I can actually control him,” he said, “Percy is responsible for his actions and his actions only, don’t go dragging me into this.”

How come none of them understood?

Did they not know who Umbridge _was_ ? What she could _do_ to them and their careers?

“She’s the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. She probably has higher jurisdiction here than even Dumbledore. We _can’t_ get on her bad side, we’re not _supposed_ to.”

Adrian just sighed, “What did your dad tell you?”

Sophia quickly took a step back, “I-I’m not supposed to say,” she looked away, “but I can tell you it’s nothing good.”

Percy leaned forward from his chair, resting his chin on his folded hands. His stare was mesmerizing, she’s never seen eyes like his. 

_And that smile_

“C’mon Sophia,” he murmured, “you can tell us.”

She shook her head, “I can’t,” she took a deep breath, “just, stay away from her okay? For me?”

Sophia could never tell what was going on in Percy’s mind.

_It’s like she’s known him forever_

The other Slytherin shrugged, “Sure, I’ll stay away from her,” Percy stood up, most likely to head to his detention with Umbridge, “can’t promise anything though.”

His wink sent her heart fluttering.

The moment he left her cheeks burned red hot.

_Oh Merlin help me._

She didn’t think she would end up like this. This was not what she expected when Professor Snape pulled her aside and asked her to look after the new transfer student.

Percy was just so… so _dreamy_. 

There was no way he didn’t have a girlfriend already.

But why would he settle for a muggle when he could have a witch like her? 

Someone _like_ him.

Someone who could _understand_ him.

Someone like her, if _only_ he would just open up.

Adrian tolerated her wistful pining for a minute, “I wouldn’t,” he said.

That certainly startled her out of her daydream, “Excuse me?”

He looked very pointedly at her, “Percy,” he clarified, “I wouldn’t.”

Sophia crossed her arms defensively, “You barely know him,” she argued, “besides, I wasn’t thinking about anything. We barely know each other.”

“I know him more than you,” Adrian shot back, “look, I get it, he’s… handsome or whatever, but,” suddenly it seemed like all the indifference drained out of him, leaving nothing but a boy who was afraid for his friend, “Percy is… not good. There’s something dark about him, and I don’t want you to get tangled up in that.”

When she didn’t reply, his expression softened, “Sophia,” she stubbornly refused to answer, “I-” he sighed, “just be his friend, don’t look for something more.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

* * *

He didn’t _mean_ to laugh in her face.

Well, it was kind of funny, the way she thought she could just treat them all like children.

Percy sighed as he made his way to her classroom, absolutely certain the halls were shifting to make a straight path for him.

“ _Hogwarts will recognize you as mine_ ,” Slytherin had said, “ _it will treat you differently than everybody else_.”

Professor Umbridge just left a bad feeling in his stomach generally, but it wasn’t like he planned on _acting_ on that bad feeling.

Then she made a snide comment at his mom and all he saw was red.

What was it with these wizards and their superiority complex over mortals anyways? It wasn’t like they even had anything to brag about.

He really wished they would just stop implying that his family is below them because they don't have any magic. 

Percy knew it wasn’t true, Paul and his mom were ten times better than any wizard here, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel the dark anger curling in his gut any time a snot-nosed _brat_ who never had to worry about a thing in their _life_ made a comment about ‘muggles being like _animals_.’

_Yes_ , he was talking about Malfoy.

Gods he wished he could just knock some sense into the little asshole.

But Percy wouldn’t, he knows that he’ll lose control.

_Di Immortals I need to work on my temper around these bigots_.

Speaking of bigots…

Umbridge’s office looked like Aphrodite threw up on the walls and they all called it a day.

But even his godly aunt would balk at the sight of _this much pink_. 

_Oh wow_ , Percy thought as he entered the room, _that’s too many cats_.

The current bane of his existence sat behind her desk, a teacup next to her and a bunch of memorabilia surrounding her. In front of Umbridge sat another desk with a piece of parchment and a quill.

Percy couldn’t see any ink, something he knew these weirdos liked to use for their aesthetic, but he wasn’t overly concerned about it. Maybe she wanted him to grovel for it.

He would rather visit Voldemort again.

Percy stood at the entrance for a couple moments, waiting for Umbridge to acknowledge him. When she didn’t even glance up from her work, the demigod knocked on the door sharply, watching with a smile when Umbridge stiffened at the sound.

Unfortunately for him, the witch was quick to plaster that sickly sweet smile on her face, “Mr. Jackson,” she said in that stupid baby voice, “please, come in. You will be writing lines for your detention today.”

Her smile widened as he walked in, shutting the door closed behind him, “Hopefully the lesson will _sink in_ by the end of your session, and we will not have to see each other like this again.”

Percy sat down, “There’s no ink,” he replied flatly.

“Ink won’t be necessary,” she told him with a pleased smile, “now please write, ‘I shall respect my betters.’ I will check on your progress soon.”

Percy rolled his eyes, but picked up the quill anyways. As he began to write, his right hand began to feel a little irritated, then it began to sting. His eyes moved to his hand, watching _words_ engrave itself on his skin, the very same words he was writing down on the parchment paper.

A drop of blood trickled from his open wound, and Percy just saw _white_.

_Annabeth was sitting with him at the beach, her curly blonde hair tucked into her regular ponytail, her grey eyes as stormy as ever._

_The war with the giants was over, Gaea was put to sleep, for good this time. Greeks and Romans formed an alliance with each other, everything was going to be okay._

_So why did he feel like this?_

_Percy wanted to talk to her, wanted to talk about how he could barely restrain himself from just letting go, wanted to let the thing inside of him break and shatter for good._

_“Do you ever wonder why demigods never live long?” Annabeth asked, her attention still turned towards the lulling waves._

_He didn’t know where she was going with this, “Monsters right? Our smell gets stronger as we grow older.”_

_She didn’t answer for a while, but he could see a tear slip down her cheek._

_Finally, she turned towards him, grief shining in her eyes, “I never thought about it before, but,” she glanced down to the scar on her leg, the one that helped wake the Earth Mother. It had mostly healed up, but that scar would remain forever, “Percy, we are the offspring of a mortal and a god, our blood has the ability to wake up a primordial goddess,” she looked away, “what if the reason we don’t live long is because we’re not supposed to? All that power contained in a mortal body, if the monsters don’t kill us first, we’ll end up killing ourselves.”_

_He knew what she was really talking about, “What brought this on?” he asked softly._

_“I’ve just been thinking,” she replied, “about what it means for us, the two half-bloods who woke up Gaea.”_

_And with the blood of the demigods, we shall wake the Earth Mother_

Percy felt something inside him break, cold fury igniting his veins. His entire body tensed, winding itself up to attack or defend. He just sat there for a moment, tense and coiled like a spring, trying furiously to blink away the tears. 

“Oh dear, it seems like my lesson hasn’t completely sunk in yet, a couple more lines please Mr. Jackson, and maybe then next time you will reconsider disrespecting your _betters_.”

Percy surged from his chair and slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing throughout the room. He lunged forward and used his other hand to wrap it around her throat, taking vicious pleasure in the way her eyes widened in fear.

His hand still stung, his blood was still on that parchment, he _still felt violated_.

What made her think she could use that against him? What gave her the _right_?

Unconsciously his grip tightened, his mind still whirling, unable to think clearly through all the anger. A fog had settled over his vision, clouding his sight and his thoughts, and all the voices he’s been suppressing rushed towards the forefront of his brain.

_C’mon_

_Do it_

_You know you want to_

_An eye for an eye, isn’t that fair?_

_Show her_

_Show her exactly who you are_

_Who is she to take from you?_

_Do it_

_You know you want to_

  
  


_Just. Let. Go._

“You know what I hate about people like you?” Percy asked casually, allowing his grip to loosen slightly. 

  
  


It wouldn’t do for her to pass out, not for what he had planned.

  
  


“People like you always think they’re better than everyone else, with that one thing sets you _above_ the rest. And somehow that means you can use it to tear everybody else _down_ ,” he summoned the parchment to his outstretched hand, “but it’s really interesting, see, you’re _nothing_ ,” he set it down on her desk, “you are such a waste of space,” he continued, “and when you realize at the end of your life that everything you did was for _nothing_ ,” he grinned, a wild and feral thing, “I’ll be there to personally escort you to the Fields.”

Finally, he released her, but his anger wasn’t satisfied just yet.

He wants her to feel all the terror and fear he’s experienced in his life, to feel as helpless as he _still_ does, always a _puppet_ to someone else.

“I’ll-I’ll have you thrown in Azkaban for this,” Umbridge gasped, still clutching her throat, “I’ll leave y-you there to _rot_.”

Percy ignored her, idly picking up the quill, rolling it between his fingers, “Let’s have a little session, shall we?”

He held the blood quill out to Umbridge, watching as she shrunk away from the damned thing.

“Take it.”

She looked at him like he was crazy, and perhaps he was, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her to carve the words into her own skin, whether through her free will---

\--- _or his own_.

“Go on,” he goaded, “ _take it_.”

Umbridge’s hand closed around her wand, and in an instant Percy found himself staring at the end of a pointed stick. 

_Her hands were shaking_

Percy just smiled, and Umbridge dropped her wand, her hand lurching out of control.

She started trembling more violently now, but she had yet to beg.

That was fine, they had all the time in the world.

He held out the quill towards her once more.

_Go on_ , he thought, _take it._

Against her will, Umbridge’s hand shot out and roughly grabbed the quill. The pink woman just stood there, trembling, clutching a blood quill in one hand, frozen.

Percy wanted her to sit, so she did. He wanted her to grab the parchment, she tried to fight him---

\---it wasn’t much of a fight.

  
  


The roles had reversed. Now, it was Percy looming over Professor Umbridge. Now, it was he who had the power and the authority. Now, it was _her_ who was the helpless pawn to a much bigger chess game. 

“I want,” he began slowly, “you to write lines today.”

“Y-you’re mad,” she whispered, tears escaping her eyes.

Percy just shrugged, “Maybe, but you did strike first. Now, let’s write ‘I shall respect my betters,’” he laughed, “we should see after a couple lines if the lesson has completely sunk in yet, right?”

He watched her write lines, watched the words etch themselves into her skin.

And every time she paused, well, he would _encourage_ her to keep going.

Finally, bit by bit, the fog cleared from his eyes, his anger subsided. And Percy didn’t feel sorry for what he did, like at all.

That scared him.

Was this just going to keep happening? Would every little trigger cause him to lose control?

And hurt the people around him?

_She deserved it_ , his mind told him, _they always deserve it_.

A knock on the door snapped Percy out of his thoughts. Both he and Umbridge turned to the sound.

“Are you expecting anyone else today?” he asked.

Umbridge nodded quickly and bowed her head, “Just one other boy,” she hesitated, “for detention.”

“Oh?” Percy raised an eyebrow, anger seeping into his voice, “was he going ‘write lines’ for you?”

She nodded.

The demigod leaned against her desk, allowing a bit of Lupa’s training to bleed through, “You,” he said, “are never going to do this again. Not to any of the students, _no one_ . If I find out that you used one of these _blood quills_ on an innocent child,” he glared at her, smiling a little cruelly, “we’ll have another _chat_.”

Percy got up to open the door, but paused, “Oh and,” he glanced at the pink room with the rows and rows of kittens, “if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

He made sure she saw the sincerity in his threat.

Satisfied, Percy opened the door to let the kid in.

The person in the doorway was not who he was expecting, but honestly, he was not even remotely surprised anymore.

“Harry?!”

* * *

“Harry?!”

The wizard looked up in surprise to see Jackson behind the door. The Slytherin had a feral gleam in his eyes and his grin was a little too crooked.

Harry always felt the instinct to run the opposite direction whenever he went near Jackson, but now, all those instances seemed to pale in comparison to the absolute adrenaline coursing through his body as his brain started screaming at him to run.

“You have detention with Umbridge?” Jackson asked disbelievingly, “you?”

“I-I could ask the same of you.”

Jackson glanced behind him, then turned his attention back to Harry, “Yeah, but we talked for a bit, sorted some things out, made some points clear, nothing too horrible.”

“Oh,” Harry looked down, anything to avoid staring into those piercing ocean eyes, even if it meant letting an awkward silence hang between them.

The Slytherin sighed, shaking his head slightly, “I better get going,” he said, opening the door completely and stepping into the hallway, “I still gotta meet with Dumbledore. I’ll see you around okay? Tell me how detention goes.”

And just like that he disappeared in the halls, seemingly vanished without a trace. 

Harry blinked, wondering how in Merlin was Jackson able to pull the disappearing act so well, when a small _ahem_ startled him out of his musings.

And then he remembered where he was.

_Damn_

“Mr. Potter,” Umbridge said, her voice trembling slightly, “please come in, have a seat.”

Harry walked in, a little curious, a little irritated. The room was as garishly pink as the woman who owned it, covered in moving frames of kittens. He found a desk right in front of her own, a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell sitting prettily on top.

“You are going to be writing lines for me today Mr. Potter,” she instructed, subtly covering one hand with the over, “Now, repeat after me, _I shall not tell lies_.”

* * *

“What has Miss Carter reported for today?”

“Apparently,” Snape drawled, “Mr. Jackson received detention from Professor Umbridge.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, “Already?”

“Indeed.”

Snape hesitated, “Was it wise to involve Miss Carter in this?” he asked.

“Severus,” Dumbledore replied, “we need someone on the inside, someone who could get close to him, someone he could trust. I asked if any of your students were up for it and you told me that Sophia Carter would be the best person for the job. Why the second thoughts now?”

“I fear she is becoming too _attached_ to him. She might not be willing to go behind his back anymore.”

“It is only the first day,” the older wizard said, “we shall see where this lead takes us, but for now, she stays.”

Snape nodded stiffly, “Of course.”

Dumbledore glanced at the clock, “Oh dear, time seems to have flown by. I will be meeting with Percy soon, it is probably best that you go.”

Snape nodded again, fighting the urge to bow and say, _Yes my Lord_ , but he managed. Before he could turn to leave, Dumbledore called out to him once more, a twinkle in his eye and a lemon drop in his hand.

“And Severus, I know I don’t need to remind you but, keep this between us. It is for the greater good.”

_Yes my Lord_

“Of course sir.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!!
> 
> Recently I've adopted a dog from a rescue organization called DoVE Project. They're focused on ending the dog meat trade in Korea, specifically the inhumane treatment and slaughter of dogs. They are an amazing group that really cares about the dogs they rescue, so I wanted to help them out in any way I could!
> 
> I started an Instagram account called @art.doveproject (creative I know), where I will be accepting art commissions from other users. All the details are on the account itself, and all the money made from it will be donated to their cause so that they will be able to rescue more doggos and find them good homes!
> 
> I'll also be posting about the dogs that they have rescued, in case any of you are interested in adopting them!!!
> 
> You guys are such a supportive group and I'm so thankful that you guys enjoy my content, so I'm hoping you'll also enjoy the artworks I'll be posting. 
> 
> If you've read this far, thank you so much!!! Kudos to you <333


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE go check out @fern_illustrations on instagram they made an AMAZING fanart of this story!!!
> 
> Also commissions for @art.doveproject are still OPEN if you're interested <3

* * *

It was always an experience, standing in the presence of Perseus Jackson.

Dumbledore knew that better than most.

The teen’s aura changed with the winds, and today it was  _ thunderous _ .

He had always known,  _ suspected _ , that there was something off about the boy. Average wizards did not have auras like that, that underlying darkness. That tension laced in every muscle of his body. That  _ anger _ .

Anger, he started to suspect, was directed at him.

“You wanted to see me?” the boy asked, his unnatural sea-green eyes seemingly  _ glowing _ with power.

Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk and took a breath. Every word, every phrase had to be carefully thought out.

He knew how to recognize when a wizard was at their tipping point.

“A couple of students,” he began, “notified me about your behavior last night, and today I was told that you had received a detention. I’d like to hear your side of the story, before moving forward.”

Perseus scoffed, bitterness etched into his face, “They singled me out because I was new,” he rolled his eyes, “I took care of it.”

“Percy, I need you to understand,”  _ I see your grandfather in you,  _ “forcing your will upon another is considered  _ extremely _ dark magic. I cannot continue to justify your presence here if you continue to behave like this.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Perseus buried his face into his hands, but Dumbledore could see the boy’s smile between his fingers. He could hear the stifled laugh, disbelieving and scornful.

“It’s funny how you think  _ I’m  _ the problem,” he said in a quiet voice, his grin humorless, “when I was just acting in self-defense.”

His expression turned furious, his mood changed so rapidly that even Dumbledore had to pause. The air around them dropped in temperature, and Fawkes squawked in alarm. Perseus’s hands began to tremble, even as he clenched them into fists, even as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

The old wizard had to diffuse this situation.

Quickly

“I understand that it is hard adjusting to a new environment,” he said sympathetically, “away from everything you were familiar with, but Hogwarts is a place where you can grow, become a new person---”

“Shut up,” Percy said, his tone low and full of warning.

“---if you just open yourself up for change,” he continued, “and let go of the chains that are holding you back---”

Perseus pressed his hands against his ears and screamed, “I said  _ SHUT UP _ !”

Dumbledore froze, his entire body immobile. His mind was clear, his thoughts were his own, but his body  _ would not move _ . Fawkes dived from her perch and attacked the teen, her cry piercing in the moment of silence. He could only watch as a bronze  _ sword _ appeared in Perseus’s hand and the teen swiftly sliced his pet in half, the phoenix dissolving into ashes.

This was not the Imperious, like he had feared. This was not a form of accidental magic. No, this act was deliberate, and he knew that Perseus was now in control of his every moment, aware of every muscle, every drop of blood, every  _ heartbeat _ . The boy could kill him if he wanted to.

And that thought  _ terrified  _ him.

“I am going to make one thing clear,” Perseus said, his voice trembling with  _ fury _ , “this place has been testing my limits since the moment I stepped foot in this fucking castle. I have been belittled, mocked, and treated like an object instead of a human being, and  _ I will not tolerate it _ . I am this close,” he held up his hand, thumb and finger pinched together, “ _ this fucking close _ to just leaving. I’ve learned how to control my magic, I don’t need to continue staying in a place where I clearly don’t belong.”

Perseus leaned in closer, forcing the wizard to make eye contact with him. Dumbledore was unable to look away, staring straight into the eyes of a hurricane. He caught a glimpse into the younger boy’s mind, and it was heartbreaking.

  
  


_ Dumbledore was in the Slytherin Common Room, facing the glass wall that separated the students from the endless abyss that was the Great Lake. Like before, there was a crack in the glass, but this time it was bigger. His surroundings dissolved until he was standing in a barren wasteland, the ground was broken glass, the air was stifling and toxic, the river was pure fire and lava.  _

_ Truly this was hell. _

_ Screams filled the air, mixed in with hysterical laughter and the growls and roars of something that wasn’t human or beast. _

_ Again, the scenery changed. This time, the ground was soft, the air was crisp and clean, the environment was lush and filled with buildings made of marble and gold. But the feeling of oppression remained. _

_ Trapped, all his emotions screamed, I’m trapped. _

_ Dumbledore was back in the Slytherin Common Room, and the merpeople were back. They clawed at the glass, their mouths open in anguish, and he could hear their screams. _

_ Free us, they begged, set us free. _

  
  


“The  _ only _ reason I’m staying,” Perseus continued, breaking eye contact, “is because of this  _ pointless _ war between you and my grandfather. I will not let innocent people die while you two try to play  _ god _ .”

His control on Dumbledore loosened enough that it allowed the man to speak, “I am not trying to do anything,” he said, “except stop your grandfather.  _ He _ is the one threatening our peace,  _ he _ is the one enacting mass murders against muggleborns.”

“And  _ you _ ,” Perseus responded with a hiss, “are the one doing  _ nothing _ about it.”

The boy took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain control over his emotions. As he exhaled, Dumbledore felt himself gain control over his limbs, his body. Perseus straightened up, his expression as stormy as ever.

“I will do as I please,” he said firmly, “ _ no one _ will have any control over me. My will is my own,” his eyes gained a spark of hunger, “I  _ will _ retaliate against those who try to cross me, and I  _ will _ ensure that they will never  _ think _ of attempting it again.  _ You _ will leave me alone,” the hunger dimmed, “am I clear?”

“And why?” Dumbledore asked, “would I agree to those terms?”

  
  


“Why?” Perseus echoed back mockingly, “do you think you have a  _ choice _ ?”

* * *

_ Wow that meeting went well _ , Percy thought sarcastically as he made his way down to the dungeons.

The halls of Hogwarts were almost lifeless at night. The darkened hallways were illuminated by torches, but they could only provide so much warmth. Perhaps it said something about him that he felt comfort in the darkness, blending in with the shadows.

_ Gods I sound like Nico _ , he laughed to himself, wiping away his tears from earlier.

It was inevitable for him to snap at Dumbledore like that, the old manipulative bastard got on his nerves without trying. And he was already so tense from his meeting with Umbridge.

Percy didn’t know exactly what Dumbledore saw, but it couldn’t have been anything good. The wizard was looking at him with a considerably larger amount of pity as he stormed out of the room. 

_ di Immortals  _ this can’t be good for his mental health.

He almost didn’t want to think about it anymore. Gods it felt like he was going in circles, just spiraling until he was at an even  _ worse _ place than he was before. Controlling their blood, he found, were the only moments of  _ relief _ he’s had this entire time. To just have a semblance of control gave him a sense of security and  _ sanity _ . All Percy wanted was a break, but people and their demands and expectations kept bombarding him and all he wanted was for them to just  _ stop _ .

And when he  _ made  _ them, it was euphoric in a way he could never describe.

“Excuse me, it’s past curfew, and I’m going to need you to---oh Percy!” Sophia ran up to him, “aha I almost didn’t recognize you. What are you doing out here?”

Percy cracked a tired smile, “Just finished with my meeting with Dumbledore,” he gestured towards the empty halls, “now I’m trying to find my way back to our dorms.”

“I just finished up my rounds anyways,” she tapped her prefect badge, “we can just walk together!  _ And _ you can tell me all about your detention with Professor Umbridge.”

_ Please just leave me alone. _

“Sure.”

* * *

Nico di Angelo watched as Percy and some mortal he didn’t recognize head towards the dungeons together. He had originally wanted to talk to his cousin, at least, to check up on how he was doing. He knew that Percy had not been doing very well since the end of the war with Gaea.

None of them were

But, it  _ looked _ like Percy was alright. He was smiling and cracking jokes as if nothing was wrong, but also he had a tendency to  _ do that _ when something was  _ definitely  _ wrong.

Nico wasn’t really sure how well his presence would be received at the moment, especially since he was with someone else.

Well, the demigod had all the time in the world anyways. His father had sent him here to learn about some wizard named Tom Riddle. Apparently the mortal thought he could split his soul into eight pieces to avoid Death, and Hades wasn’t too keen on all the paperwork that would cause. And  _ apparently _ , Riddle was Percy’s grandfather.

His poor cousin could never catch a break.

Nico shook his head to himself, continuing to watch as the pair became further away from him. He could always stop by and talk to Percy later.

With that, the son of Hades slipped back into the shadows, resolving to stop by next week.

Hopefully Percy would be alone by then.

* * *

Percy was able to quickly say goodbye to Sophia as the two made their way to their respective dorms. Honestly, the demigod was glad to be rid of her, not that he didn’t enjoy her company, but just right now her company was  _ exhausting _ . 

He dragged his feet to his bed, and barely suppressed a groan when he saw Adrien perched at the foot of his bed, reading a book and pretending like he hadn’t been waiting for Percy to get back from his meetings.

Percy just pushed past the other boy and flopped on his bed, shushing Adrien the moment he tried to open his mouth.

“Dude, please, just,  _ be quiet _ .”

“I guess the meetings went well then,” Adrien said dryly.

“I am this close to  _ making  _ you shut up,” Percy snarled, his threat muffled by his pillow, “don’t fucking test me.”

Adrien winced, “All right, good to know. I’ll see you in the morning Jackson.”

“Bye.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after this it's going to be like vignette style one shots. I have a few plot points I want to write but not enough to make it like an overarching narrative. Once enough time passes and we get to the end of the school year, then it's going to be more plot driven than character. but yeah there's def going to be some time skips between chapters, it's kinda hard writing all these events then realizing that 1 day has passed in the story lmao
> 
> anywho thanks for reading <3


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//: Suicidal talk/bullying

* * *

About a month had passed since his little chat with Dumbledore, and Percy wished he could say he was doing better.

But that would be a lie.

He was able to adjust to the Hogwarts routine, the professors made so many accommodations for him that he didn’t have to be concerned about passing at all. Umbridge in particular avoided him when she could, averting her eyes and subtly covering her hand that contained the words,

_ I will respect my betters. _

He shouldn’t feel the rush of satisfaction whenever he saw the phrase, but he was too far gone to care.

The rest of the Slytherins learned to avoid him as well. Only Adrien and Sophia stayed, whether out of ignorance or stupidity he didn’t know, but it did make the whole experience less lonely. 

Still, Nico’s words wouldn’t leave his head.

* * *

_ “How’d you even get here dude?” Percy asked, slowly lowering Riptide from his cousin’s throat. _

_ The son of Hades brushed off the nonexistent dust on his jacket, making a small ‘ta-da’ gesture with his hands, “Surprise?” _

_ Percy sighed, shoving the other teen into the nearest empty classroom. He pulled out his wand and muttered a few privacy spells, locking the door for good measure. Finally he turned back to Nico, crossing his arms and glared disapprovingly, hoping to make the other kid at least feel a bit guilty for appearing out of nowhere.  _

_ “At least you’re learning something here,” Nico said, “never thought I’d see you waving a stick around and saying magic words, but here we are.” _

_ Percy stayed silent. _

_ “I made sure you were alone before jumping out,” Nico said with a defensive frown, “I’m not stupid.” _

_ The son of Poseidon slumped against the door, letting out a long suffering sigh, “Why are you here Nico?” _

_ “I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok. Last time I checked up on you, you didn’t look too great.” _

_ “Last time?” Percy echoed angrily, “have you been stalking me again?” _

_ “What? No! I’m trying to be a good friend!” Nico’s expression softened, “and… my dad told me about your grandfather. I was worried about you, especially so soon after--” _

_ “--di Immortals Nico I’m fine. I don’t need your pity.” _

_ “Really? Oh of course, cause this,” he gestured towards him, “is the pinnacle of mental health. My mistake, it’s not like you’re being forced to participate in another war barely a year after the Pit. Oh wait.” _

_ Percy eyed him wearily, “I don’t remember you being like this.” _

_ “You’re changing the subject,” Nico snapped, “and I saw what you did to that blonde kid and his friends Percy. Since when did you do shit like that? It isn’t like you, and you promised you wouldn’t do things like that anymore!”  _

_ “I’m just tired Nico,” he said quietly, “tired of being used, tired of being jerked around like some puppet,” his eyes gained a wild gleam as he laughed, “it’s so easy. I could just snap my fingers and suddenly I’m the one in control, I’m the one with the strings. I know I promised her, but she’s not here, none of you are. No one I care about is here to be afraid of me, so I made a new promise to myself,” he took a step forward as Nico took one back, “I said, ‘No one will ever have control over me ever again, especially if I can do something about it.’” _

_ “I don’t think you should be here,” Nico said softly, with a gentleness only reserved for a loved one, “this isn’t healthy for you, I can see you unraveling before my eyes,” he reached out with his hands, taking Percy’s into his, as if trying to ground them both, “you say this now, but who will you be when you come back?” _

_ “I’ll be fixed,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll be whole. I won’t ever have to worry about hurting any of you ever again.” _

_ “We can talk to Hecate,” Nico said almost desperately, “make her pick someone else. You don’t have to put yourself through another war just to “fix” yourself.” _

_ “Innocent people are dying for something they can’t control,” Percy tried to smile, but he was almost certain it fell flat, “I have the power to do something about it. What kind of person am I if I don’t?” _

_ Nico seemed to be looking just past him, his eyes focused on something else entirely.  _

_ Percy didn’t like the expression on his face. _

_ “Yeah I know, it’s just,” the boy looked almost pained, “nothing about this feels right.” _

* * *

“Sometimes I think you zone out just so you don’t have to listen to me,” Percy jolted out of his memories, his eyes snapping towards Sophia, his expression sheepish as she smirked mischievously.

“I promise that’s not true.”

Sophia laughed, shaking her head as she turned back to her homework, “It’s fine. I was just saying how there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and that the three of us should go together.”

“Yeah,” his mind started drifting again the moment the words left his mouth, “yeah that sounds fun.”

His eyes were drawn to Harry chilling in the back of the library, surrounded by his friends. Percy noted that the boy also looked a little zoned out, slouching as if a heavier burden had been placed on him, slowly suffocating under the responsibility of being the chosen one. He knew the feeling, and it pained him to see another,  _ younger _ , go through it as well.

_ I think I’m projecting a little bit _ , he thought to himself,  _ that conversation with Nico fucked me up. _

Percy also noticed that Harry’s been avoiding him ever since the Umbridge incident, which was what he wanted, but he didn’t quite expect the feeling of disappointment every time the younger wizard turned in the opposite direction every time he saw him. He at least wanted to make sure the other teen was alright, there weren’t any detention scars from what he could tell.

_ Maybe if I just talked to him once, make sure everything is fine _ , he reasoned, not noticing that his body already made its decision,  _ then we can go back to ignoring each other _ .

Mind made up, Percy made his way towards the group, belatedly realizing that there were people from other houses there as well, although Slytherins were conspicuously absent. 

_ Oh gods bad timing. I can always talk to him another time it’s fine--- _

\---Harry looked up, his eyes growing wide with  _ fear(?) _ , the moment they made eye contact, and Percy knew there was no going back.

_ I can see you unraveling before my eyes. _

“Jackson?”

* * *

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the detention with Umbridge.

It was stupid, since she only made him write lines,  _ dumb lines _ , but still. He should have gotten over it the moment it was over, he had bigger things to worry about. But the whole encounter wouldn’t leave his mind. Everything about it was just strange.  _ Jackson _ was acting strange 

_ He couldn’t forget the wild look in the Slytherin’s eyes _ .

Umbridge acted weird the entire time, and it looked like she had been crying. She would always cover her hand with the other, and seemed less annoying than usual.

_ She looked almost afraid. _

What had Jackson done to her? What could an American who had no previous magical experience do to terrify a Ministry woman so much?

And that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Initially Harry wanted to investigate Jackson for a while, to make sure the other teen wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He had his cloak, he had the map, it should have been the easiest thing in the world. But then it wasn’t.

It was nearly impossible to follow the Slytherin. Somehow he always picked the busiest hallways, the most crowded corridors, to walk through. Harry constantly lost him to the crowd, dodging and weaving and trying not to get run over while simultaneously keeping an eye out for a teenager in a crowd of teenagers was difficult to say the least. Even in emptier hallways Jackson seemed to just disappear.

Somehow the one time Harry was able to consistently track him was the worst and best thing he could have ever hoped for.

Whatever it was, it  _ terrified  _ him.

* * *

_ Harry quietly followed Jackson down the hallway. _

_ Luckily for him it wasn’t as crowded as it was the other day, Percy Jackson was easy to spot as he made his way through the castle. Then they both turned the corridor and Harry nearly groaned out loud. _

_ Because perched underneath one of the archways, was Malfoy and his goons Crabbe and Goyle. Harry didn’t know what was going to happen. Malfoy stopped bragging that the transfer was in his house ages ago, something happened between the two Slytherins.  _

_ Jackson didn’t seem bothered by the presence of the little group as he kept walking past them, his attention focused on something Harry couldn’t name. _

_ But then Malfoy opened his big mouth. _

_ And Harry’s heart dropped. _

_ “Hey Jackson!” Malfoy called out, the four of them watching as the older teen paused in his step. _

_ Slowly, Jackson turned to face him, his expression teetering on the edge of anger, “Can I help you?” _ _   
  
_

_ Malfoy paled slightly at the sight of his stormy expression, but quickly covered it up with a sneer, “Is it true that your mother is a squib?” _

_ Jackson titled his head slightly and took a menacing step towards them, “I’m a little curious to know how you got that information,” he said in a calm tone, “but yes, she is.” _

_ Harry’s hand gripped his wand tightly as his instincts screamed at him to run. The corridor was empty, not a single person around them. Not a single witness to save them. Somehow Malfoy didn’t realize he was in danger. _

_ “How pathetic,” Malfoy responded with a laugh, “didn’t you know that squibs are almost worse than mudbloods? I’d rather kill myself than be one of those,” Harry was speechless, Malfoy’s never talked with that much contempt before, “your mother should have killed herself, then we would have been spared from the likes of you.” _

_ Jackson stood as still as a statue, unmoving even as the three Slytherins laughed at him. Then without warning Crabbe and Goyle shot up from their seat, their expressions confused as they turned and ran away, leaving Malfoy alone. _

_ The blonde Slytherin yelled after them, but stopped once Jackson’s shadow fell over him, turning around to face him. Harry couldn’t see Jackson’s expression, but whatever it was it was enough to make Malfoy immediately fall to his knees and start begging. _

_ Someone’s going to come, Harry thought, someone’s going to see. _

_ Jackson raised his hand and Malfoy immediately flinched, but all he did was snap his fingers, a movement Harry recognized, and reality seemed to shift around them. Something was nudging Harry away from the scene, encouraging him to look the other way. But he simply grasped the cloak tighter around himself and the nudging stopped. _

_ “You know,” Jackson began in a calm manner, “you kinda caught me on a bad day Malfoy.” _

_ “Please,” the other begged, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” _

_ “Insulting someone’s mother like that,” his voice turned cold, “now what exactly should I do with you?” _

_ Harry’s vision blurred and for a moment reality seemed to shift. It was the same picture, but simply a different setting. An older Malfoy and an older Riddle, standing together in a graveyard as the Malfoy begs for his life at the Riddle’s feet. _

_ But the vision was gone in an instant as Jackson was effortlessly holding Malfoy up by the throat, the younger boy frantically grasping for something as he struggled to breathe. _

_ “It’s really exhausting listening to you just regurgitate all the bigotry your parents taught you,” Jackson said conversationally, “I’m sure you’re tired of it too. Don’t think I will let you off easily, I’m not above fighting someone younger than me Malfoy,” he dropped the poor boy to the ground, watching him fall to his knees and clutch his throat, gasping for air. _

_ Jackson crouched down next to him, shaking his head almost sympathetically, “I should just crush your vocal chords,” he said, still in a casual tone, “take that whiny voice of yours and maybe you’ll think twice before you decide to say something harmful.” _

_ “N-no, please,” Malfoy croaked, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” _

_ Jackson slowly stood up, and Malfoy followed his movements, his whole body trembling as he was held up through sheer force of will, though it wasn’t his.  _

_ No, Harry thought with horror, that’s not the Imperious. _

_ “I need you to start reconsidering your actions,” Jackson continued, “and think twice before you try and piss off a half-blood, because I guarantee that it won’t end well for you.” _

_ Finally, he released his magical hold on Malfoy, who immediately scrambled away from him, turning his tail and running as fast as he could. He didn’t get very far before he froze, locked in running position and his face the definition of fear. _

_ “Oh and Malfoy,” Jackson added, “let’s keep this conversation between us alright? I know you have a habit of telling your father everything, but I’m afraid that tactic won’t work well in your favor this time.” _

_ Malfoy frantically agreed, and with a casual wave, Jackson let him go, the two of them watching the young Slytherin run for his life. _

_ Harry wondered if he did something similar to Umbridge. The expression of helpless fear was nearly the same. _

_ Jackson did have the same wild look in his eyes, even as the rest of him remained casual and nonchalant. Harry could feel the anger seething underneath, and he wondered what it would take for it to be fully unleashed. He didn’t notice another boy, around the same age, sadly shake his head and disappear into the shadows. _

_ There was a distinct energy buzzing in the air, and Harry could feel the destructive magic swirling around them. _

_ He should have been terrified (he was), he should have listened to his friends’ advice and simply turned and walked away. Percy Jackson was the grandson of his enemy, and he was dangerous on his own, even without magical experience. If anything, his curiosity grew.  _

_ But maybe he should avoid Jackson for a few weeks… just to be safe. _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW COME I JUST FOUND OUT RICK WROTE A PERCY AND NICO FRIENDSHIP STORY ASLDKFJKDSLKJ I'VE BEEN SCREAMING THAT THEY'RE FRIENDS FOR SO LONG AND FINALLY THE VOID SCREAMED BACK
> 
> ALSO: thank you so much to everyone who has read this story <3 motivation to do anything has been really difficult for me and I really don't foresee it getting any better :( so thank you for sticking around
> 
> we have two flashback scenes in this so lmk if you don't want them to be italicized or if it's ok as is
> 
> <3333


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